Extracts from the Diary of Dean Winchester
by Steffs
Summary: These are several extracts from the Diary of Seventeen year old Dean Winchester. He writes about his life on the road with his father, his brother and hunting.
1. Chapter 1

**This will be the first of several extracts taken from the Diary of Dean Winchester. I have several which I will publish over the next few days. Any gramatical, punctuation or spelling errors are entirely his.  
**

**This is the first one Dean is aged 17.  
****  
**  
1997:

**Monday:  
**  
I told them I wasn't going. It was asking for trouble, but how could I tell them, tell them what I know.

It was Billy's (Sheensten) stupid idea, he was tanked on beer rolling around and laughing. He nearly rolled into Mary Sue but I stopped him. I like Mary Sue she's not like the others, she doesn't think I'm weird. She kissed me round the corner from The Lucky Pancake, now that's gotta count for something.

Billy wanted us to go up to Harper's Grove Cemetery. He'd been trying to look good, trying to big himself up in front of Milly Redmond and her mates. "Lets go Spook hunting". Dip shit! Then he went all secretive, putting his finger to his mouth like a kindergarten kid and giggling. I would have walked away there and then if Mary Sue hadn't been holding my hand. That kind of dumb ass deserves all they get.

She had to ask him, Riah (Spielling) had to, couldn't keep her whiny voiced question to herself. "Why would we wanna go there?" Beats me why the other girls let her skinny ass hang round with them, she's so friggin annoying, always butting in, sucking her teeth and hangin on my arm. God help me I think she fancies me. She's got no hope.

Then Billy began telling all these stupid ghost stories, saying how the ghosts followed you round the cemetery touching you on the shoulder but if you wore a ribbon around your pinkie then they couldn't see you and wouldn't it be cool if we all went up there one night. Don't know what F*cking planet he's from.

**Wednesday  
**  
Shit. Why do they do it? I hate being in the middle all the time. I swear next time Sam pushes it I am gonna punch him and Dad's just as bad, can't let him win, ONCE. I get so I just want to walk away and leave them to it. Let them fight it out once and for all and it's over nothing. Sam doesn't like f*cking peas. Sonofabitch, then Dad turns on me like it's my fault he won't eat his peas. He doesn't like f*cking peas.

Billy is still going on about a trip to the cemetery and the others are nodding and saying yes. I said "No" but then felt like an outsider. I've only been here a couple of months and I like most of the guys, except Billy, they're ok. I like hanging with them and this is the longest we have stayed anywhere for years. I think that Dad is kind of aware that Sam and I go to school but it's not big on his priority list. So it's quite a novelty staying in one school for a time.

I never had friends before, not ones I hung out with in a group, so in the end I said "Yes"

I think, no, I know it's a bad idea but I feel kinda responsible for them. If there is anything going on up there then I will have to cover their stupid ass's.

**Thursday  
**  
I am so tired, I've been up all night and I hurt all over and it's my fault.

When I got back Wednesday night, Dad shoved a shotgun in my hands telling me to be ready in ten.

We drove for an hour in silence. I did ask but Dad was concentrating. He gets like that on a job.

We stopped at this big old house, columns at the door, steps up to the porch. I expected a big black Momma to open the door and Ret Bulter coming down the stairs, hahahah.

Dad left me at the front telling me to stand and shoot anything that moved. After he had gone, ducking around the back, I checked the gun, salt cartridges, he was expecting an apparition then, thanks for telling me, Dad.

Nothing. I stood for two hours, hairs on the back of my neck pricking, thumb on the safety. I began to get worried. I worry when nothing's happening, Stuff happening I am fine with, I can deal, but nothing is hard. If you go off the boil, your attention wanders and that's when it's dangerous. Dad says "Stay Alert, Stay Alive." And I believe him.

So it's entirely my fault that the thing got the drop on me. It's there suddenly, on my back and it sure didn't feel like an apparition. I'm screaming for Dad like a girl, trying to get it off me, its digging is claws in and I'm turning around trying to dislodge it. I can hear Dad shouting but it's got its teeth into my shoulder.

The next thing I know is Dad is leaning over me pressing his shirt onto my shoulder which hurts like hell and he is telling me I'm ok. I didn't feel ok. He told me that I did good and then I realised that he had left me there as bait to draw the thing out.

The ground is hard under me and all I can feel is my shoulder throbbing as Dad presses down. I start shouting and babbling, I am asking him what the friggin heck that thing was and he is telling me not to talk.

I hated him then, he'd left me out there, knowing that this thing would attack. If he had told me, I would have stood there anyway but at least it would have been my choice and I would have been more prepared. I friggin hate my life.

I still don't feel ok. I'm all stiff and sore. Dad stitched my shoulder when we got back it stung like crazy when he poured on the alcohol and he told me not to be such a baby when I cried.

So I didn't go into school today. Sammy didn't either, he set off but when Dad left, he snuck back to stay with me, we spent the day watching cartoons on TV and drinking Dad's whiskey and he said he would come with me to the library tomorrow to look up Harper's Grove in the local records.

**Friday  
**  
We skipped school again today. Sam and me, but I figured a trip to the library was educational so it evened out. I phoned Sammy's school and pretended to be Dad. I've done it before and they always believe me.

I am glad Sam came with me he's good at that sort of stuff I wouldn't even have thought of there being a local history room, but he did.

We found a book, a whole book, about local ghosts and weird happenings. Sam photocopied the pages we wanted because they don't let you take those kind of books out of the library and we hightailed it back to the room. He sat on the bed all afternoon looking at those pages and writing notes in that spidery handwriting of his.

It was early when I heard the Impala drive up and park. I wasn't expecting Dad so soon. I rushed over and helped Sam hide the pages spreading his schoolbooks over the notes he'd made and then he sat looking all innocent. God, I would believe him if he told me that black was white.

I had to wait until almost bedtime before we could talk. Dad hung around the room for ages before he went out again. He was on a guilt trip kept asking me if I was alright and that he was sorry and then he turned on Sammy getting really nasty when Sam told him to mind his own business about the homework he was trying to do.

We sat on the bed after he had gone and Sammy showed me what he'd read. Turns out that Billy big mouth, wasn't so wide of the mark. There was plenty going on up at that cemetery.

**Saturday  
**  
Dad was asleep when I got up, I woke Sammy and told him I was going, he said he wanted to come, I said no. He dragged me into the bathroom and shut the door so we wouldn't wake Dad. He didn't say much but told me that there was no way he wasn't coming and if I went without him he would wake Dad and tell him. Then he stood there with a grin on his face. He was enjoying himself.

I took the Impala keys and shook Dad, I knew he wouldn't wake up properly but I wanted to say that I had asked him if I could take the car. As it was I needn't have bothered he was pissed at me anyway.

I love that car, it's a classic, its good to drive, it fits like a glove and it moves like silk. Once we were out of town I opened her up, she drove like a dream. Sam navigated and it only took us fifteen minutes before we were driving onto turf outside some pretty good looking iron gates on the edge of a wood. It wasn't until we got inside that I realised the cemetery was abandoned, the grass was long and the stinging nettles grew right up to the tops of some of the gravestones. There was an atmosphere even in the daylight. I have been places like that with Dad and even before we'd read up about it, I could have told you the place was haunted.

Sam started spouting, I don't know where he keeps all that information. The first burial took place in 1844 but it didn't become known as Harper's Grove until 1864. Thanks for that Sammy. It was closed in the 1960's and that's when reports of strange phenomena began. Floating lights, strange sounds and a phantom car. That's when I started listening, properly listening. It's not everyday you come across reports of a phantom car. Ha! one couple even crashed into it only for it to disappear in front of them. I'd like to have seen that.

There was a bunch of other stuff but I wasn't really paying attention, after that I was thinking about the car but I definitely made one decision I was going to have to persuade Billy and the guys that this place wasn't worth a visit.

When we got back Dad was up and pissed at me for taking the car and for taking Sammy. He didn't listen to my explanation and I got the silent treatment for the rest of the day.

**Monday  
**  
School sucks. I hate everything around it, about it and in it; the teachers, the pupils, the janitor, the lawn and the f*cking flowers.

I told them I didn't think it was such a good idea going up to the Grove and Billy friggin Sheensten announced that I was a coward to the whole f*cking refectory.

Well they can go to the cemetery and I hope they get their ass's haunted off.

**Tuesday  
**  
Mary Sue followed me today, I didn't go into school I am never going back to that shithole but I had to leave the room till Dad went out. She saw me and followed me, and when I went back, she came tapping on the door. I had to let her in, I didn't want anyone to see.

She kissed me, she pushed me back against the wall and jumped me. I didn't know what to do, where to put my hands. Well I mean I do know but she surprised me being so full on straight away. She pushed herself right up against me, kissing me all the while on the lips and I was like "Woah" She was pulling at my T-shirt and everything. I had to stop her if she had gotten the shirt any higher she would have seen the bandage and I didn't want to have to try and explain. So I stuck my hand up her blouse and undid her bra. She went kind of nuts moaning, rubbing her hand in places nice girls ought not to and then she stuck her tongue in my mouth. She felt good, warm and soft and Oh God… I wish I had skipped school a long time ago.

If she thought if funny I kept my shirt on she didn't say.

It wasn't until I heard the key in the lock that I realised how late it was. Mary Sue gave a weird squeak and disappeared into the bathroom. Luckily I had my boxers on.

Sam came in dumped his bag and gave me one of his 'I am disgusted with you looks' and asked where she was. How he knows I don't know but he always does. I nodded towards the bathroom, he said I had five minutes and left with ten of my friggin dollars.

All evening he kept looking at me, I mean it's not as if it hasn't happened before, Jeez Sammy can be a pain sometimes.

**Wednesday  
**  
I skipped school again but Mary Sue didn't turn up so I re-read the pages we got from the library. The more I read the more I was beginning to feel guilty about not going but I couldn't go now it would look like a backdown and I wouldn't give that shit Billy the satisfaction. In fact I wouldn't give him the time of day if I had the only watch in the world.

**Friday  
**  
Sammy was so pleased last night it was pathetic he got an A in his paper. Even Dad noticed his cheesy grin and ruffled his hair. I wish he would be like that more often, more like a real Dad. Its there inside and sometimes he lets it slip but then the shutters come down and he's bawling us out for something.

I spent the day sorting out my stuff, packing a dufflebag. I'm gonna follow those dipshits up to the cemetery tomorrow. However hard I try, however stupid they are, I just can't leave it. If something happens then I will be there, if nothing happens, then they are a bunch of idiots messing around in a cemetery but so help me I can't leave them up there alone.

I've shoved the bag under my bed and I just hope Dad doesn't notice the knives, salt and stuff are missing.

**Sunday  
**  
I am still shaking if not on the outside, on the inside. I wish I had never gone, never met Billy Sheensten, never come to this shithole of a town and the worst is Dad is going to kill me when he finds out Sam got hurt last night and there is no way Dad's not going to notice. I'm a bit beat up and I pulled my stitches, but he won't notice that against Sammy.

Dad wasn't back when I left on Saturday night so I had to take Sam with me, figured I would get into worse shit from Dad if I left him on his own. Sam kept grinning.

There was no way I was going to walk up to the cemetery so I hot wired a car two blocks away, told Sam we were just borrowing it and it would be back before the owner even knew it was gone. He goes on guilt trips like Dad.

Billy's car was already there and so was Gary's. I parked back down the lane, turned it around so it was pointing back to town, then if they came back to the cars they wouldn't see and I was ready for a quick get away if needed. Dad taught me that one very early on.

I heard them shouting and we were all the way by the gate, Billy's voice mocking of someone and Riah whining. If I had been a ghost I wouldn't have gone near them.

I'd given Sam the bag to carry and told him to keep close as we left the gravel path and cut through the headstones towards the noise. He tripped over some brambles crashing into some bushes. I hissed at him to quit making a noise. Sound carries further at night I don't know why. I'll get Sam to look it up one day.

I saw them. Someone had lit a fire, and I remember being angry and thinking "What did they think this was a f*cking beach party." They made me pissed so any ghost passing by wouldn't have stood a chance, in the I wanna be friendly stakes.

Billy was stood beer bottle in hand obviously giving the others the benefit of his wisdom, man, that guy is an asshole. Gary was there and Paul, and Riah, I couldn't see her but man I could hear her, and Milly and that jock Johnson and he had his arm round Mary Sue, slobberin all over her face. She didn't like it she was pushing at him with her hands but he is a big dumb ass and he didn't even feel it. I would have leapt out and decked him but Sam pulled me back, he was pointing to the far side of the cemetery.

I can remember the cold wind hit me as I looked to where Sam was pointing. It was icy and seemed to cut through my jacket and seep into my body. Sam was shivering, I could feel him shaking as he crouched next to me and even in the dark I could tell he had gone paler than usual. I asked him if he was okay, he nodded but all the same I shrugged off my jacket and stuck it on his shoulders.

I looked again. A white mist was rolling along the ground, snaking its way between the headstones, it was opaque, dense, low down, like it was heavy. It kept pouring into the space spreading over the grass. I remember thinking "Shit" and pulling Sam up with me as I climbed onto a table memorial, up out off the ground. There was no way I was going to sit there and let that stuff touch me. I looked behind us checking our path back to the car but the mist had slipped in, we were surrounded by a white carpet, it had crept round us filling up the clear ground. I nearly panicked.

I did panic when the voices started.

At first I thought it was Billy and the gang but it sounded different not so solid. "Marcie Wilson…..Ethan Pointer….Nelly Caldbeck….." The voices were eerie, unnatural and really, really sent the creeps down my spine. "Walter Broad…..Sarah Broad….Peter Broad….." the names just kept on coming, the sound floating in the air as if they were ghosts themselves.

Sam was tugging at my arm, tugging and tugging he was whispering to me trying to pull my head nearer so I could hear him. "They're the dead." And I remembering thinking, although I didn't say it out loud, that we were all dead if I didn't do something.

"Michael Winger….Ruth Winger….Colleen Mayor…" Sam was whispering again I could see he was trying to make me understand "They're the names of the dead people, off the tombstones, I remember them."

Pain stabbed up my leg. "John Brooker…Judith Spinner…..." the mist had gotten higher it was creeping up over the lip of the stone that we were crouching on, it was touching my foot. I pulled back but it was all round, Sam stood up, I knew he was expecting me to do something, but what. I pulled at the bag, wrenching it from him, I was shouting at him "Get the salt." I knew salt would stop Demons and ghosts but haunted mist?" but I had nothing else.

Sam must have realised what I was doing and was unscrewing the canister lid before I could grab it from him. I watched him as he sprinkled a thick line around the edge of the flat stone, enclosing us in a protective circle. "Fiona Donaldson…Charles Noble…..Billy Sheensten…"

The Scream was terrible. I have never heard anything so frighteningly awful. It went on and on until it died away slowly, dreadfully.

The list of the dead continued. I knew then that we had to get out of that godforsaken place, or our names, mine and Sammy's would be on that list. The salt was holding the mist back but mist was damp and I had no idea how that would affect the salt or the protection it gave us.

"Grace Forster….Paul Morrison…"

Another blood curdling scream was mingled with more earthly screams from the others and crashing sounds as they ran. I yelled at them to stop, there was nowhere to run to, the mist was everywhere.

A tall board figure loomed out of the darkness, out of the mist it was Johnson. "Terry Johnson…." It was terrifying, his eyes opened wide, mouth screaming and screaming the mist rose up his legs, he could see us and he held up his arms trying to reach us. Sam hung onto me as I leaned out trying to grab hold of him. Our fingers brushed but the mist had enveloped him and he gave a moan that shook me to my bones as he dissipated in front of my eyes. I will never forget his face and I will never forget that feeling of helplessness as I saw him disappear in front of me knowing I could do nothing.

I began to shout. "MARY SUE, Milly….RIAH….GARY…..OVER HERE." I had no idea if they could hear me and the list of the dead went on. "Elsa Forstien….Thomas Fallgate…Milly Redmond…." I held my breath waiting for the scream, it came, further off and I thankfully never heard the end because Gary and Mary Sue came hurtling at us from two different directions. We pulled them up inside the protection circle. Mary Sue hung onto me as I searched the darkness trying to remember who was left. She was crying. I remember that she was crying.

"Where's Riah?" I shouted again "RIAH." As I shouted I became aware that the litany of names had stopped.

Into the silence came a low humming noise.

Sam looked at me, he was scared, hell I was scared. Then he was searching in the pockets of my jacket, scrabbling around "Dean, phone Dad." He held out the cell phone but it slipped, bounced on the stone and fell into the mist. He looked at me stricken and before I could stop him he jumped down and disappeared. covered by the white fog.

"Sammy, NO." I couldn't believe he had just done that. I turned to Mary Sue shouting at her "Stay here, whatever happens stay here inside the salt ring."

I don't know what I thought I could do but I knew I couldn't leave Sammy and there was no way some sonofabitch mist was gonna get my brother. "Sammy. Sam?" I could hear myself shouting his name but somehow the sound was deadened, I remember feeling numb, the cold that had seeped in earlier seemed to be percolating down through my flesh to my bones. I was stumbling about shouting Sam's name, desperately listening for a sound any sound to show me that he had not dissipated like Johnson. It was then, I was really scared, not the scared you feel when you find yourself in a bad place but the terrifying, mind freezing scared when someone you love is in danger.

I tripped up and landed on something soft, which moved as I scrambled up onto my knees. There was a moan and I felt relief, heart thudding joy as I recognised Sam's voice. "Dean, I …" He sounded weak as he tried to sit up and my mind snapped back into function mode as I saw the damage on his head. Blood was pouring from a deep gash on his left temple. This I could deal with, I told him to sit still and I stripped off my shirt, like Dad had done for me, holding it to the cut pressing down. I feel sick thinking about it now. I put his hand up to the shirt and told him to hold it there while I helped him stand, he was shaky but I held him up, we had to get back to the circle, it was the only protection we had.

I looked around as I helped Sam up and I couldn't see a f*cking thing. The mist had gotten thicker. I couldn't see the tombstones or Mary Sue or a path or anything but a white wall of undulating fog. It was totally disorientating I had no idea which way to go. I pushed the panic away, took a deep breath and chose a path. I figured that if I kept going long enough I would reach a boundary wall somewhere. I had no idea if the mist stretched beyond that if it did we were in deeper shit than I already thought.

We hadn't gone more than a few yards when Sammy began to cough, I could hear him wheezing. He was asking me to stop, he couldn't breath. Then I felt it, my chest had something wrapped around it, squeezing, pulling tighter every minute. I tried to drag air into my lungs, I felt Sam go down, I grabbed him, lifted him half dragged him, kept on dragging. Breathing became an issue as my head began to buzz and my vision telescoped. Sam cried out and I fell, the restriction around my ribs was excruciating and something gave. The pain was incredible, stabbing and knifing through me, but I knew I couldn't stop I had to get Sam out of there I had to get me out of there. I pulled at Sam's dead weight and the pain expanded up my sides encompassing my whole ribcage. I dropped Sam and he moaned, I got to my knees and tried again but I had no strength, no oxygen. I couldn't move him. I noticed that Sam still had the bag with him held tight in his hand. I gritting my teeth and reached for the salt canister, with the last of my consciousness I spread the salt around and over us as best I could before I cuddled Sam to me and as far as I can remember I think I must have passed out.

Mary Sue and Gary found us two yards from the cemetery gate. They told us the mist had retreated as the sky began to grey into dawn. It had rolled back as it had rolled in. They had waited until full light, not daring to move, before venturing out of the salt circle. Searching the cemetery they had found only us.

We none of us discussed what had happened and I made them think of a story before we left, the truth they knew would only lead to more trouble.

So Dad is going to kill me, Sam has a huge gash on the side of his head and three cracked ribs and possible concussion. I have cleaned the cut but it still looks bad with the swelling and bruising.

I have several cracked ribs and some might be broken by the feel of it, my shoulder needs re-stitching and I have cuts and bruises all over.

Generally we both look and feel wrecked. I am so gonna die when he gets back.

**Tuesday  
**  
Dad got back this morning and fortunately we both looked better than on Sunday. He was carrying a newspaper and he showed us the headline. "Missing Children Found DEAD." They had all been found, Billy, Terry, Milly and Riah at a lagoon next to the cemetery and the police had put it down to a party gone wrong, the water in their lungs confirmed that they had drowned.

They way Dad looked at us said spill the beans. I did, every single last one and I was glad to. He ripped into me. What was I thinking, I should know better, bad enough taking Sam but to let him get hurt, unforgivable. It didn't occur to Dad that I was beating myself up about it more than he ever could.

Sam had been quiet all Monday and he was quiet while Dad ranted on. When Dad had stopped he spoke. "We gotta finish it Dad. I've been re-reading the stuff me and Dean got from the library I think I know what happened."

He took out a picture from the 1930's. It showed a police van and several wrapped bodies, which had been found in the lagoon. It had been thought that like Saturday the drownings had been a tragic accident. Look at the date Dad. 7th July 1937 and there is another one. This time he pulled out a report. Its dated 7th July 1957. Saturday was 7th July 1997 I bet if we check we will find other drownings on the 7th of the 7th every ten years.

Dad wouldn't let us go back to the cemetery and what he did there I don't know but when he came back his face was grim and he packed our bags and we left Shithole Town behind us.


	2. Dean's Diary Extract 2

The Winchester Diaries: Dean Winchester.  
Extract 2

**Thursday  
**  
Dad's been away all week, we had a phone call last Friday saying he was ok and that he was going to be a couple more days. He didn't show Monday, so Tuesday I phoned but he didn't pick up. I try not to worry but he is going away more and more. He doesn't tell me what he is doing and when Sammy asks where he gone, all I can say is I don't know. Then Sam gives me one of his looks…. Its not my fault.

Sam did that last night I was trying to help him with homework, but he wasn't listening, he was looking at the door. I knew he was waiting for Dad to walk through. Sam is a worrier and then he turns those eyes on me and I don't know what to say. So I say what he wants to hear. "Dad will be back soon." But he knows that it isn't true, just as I do but he accepts it and goes back to his work.

**Monday  
**  
Old Scropton took me into his office today. I thought heck what did I do. I didn't think I had done anything, not since we unscrewed Mrs. Kandinsky's desk and it fell apart when she dumped her pile of books on it. Man her face, Hahaha I am laughing thinking about it now.

Scropton tells me to sit down and THEN he comes round his desk and perches on the edge. I can't work out what the hell I've done wrong. THEN he freaking smiles. Scropton never smiles. "Dean." He says "You've been with us for what, four weeks." I nodded. " And out of those four weeks…." Then I knew what was coming. "You have attended six of a potential 20 days." I said nothing. It was probably true. I didn't care, I hated school I wanted to leave, Hell I was gonna be a hunter, was a hunter but Dad had insisted that I stay on to graduate.

Dad makes me laugh sometimes, on one hand he is all 'You will stay on and graduate' no two ways about it. Yet he doesn't think twice about hauling my ass out of there to help him on some hunt every two minutes.

Then Scropton said could I ask Dad to come in and have an informal chat. I said okay, what could I say "Sorry but my Dad is off hunting something nasty, I don't know where he is. How could I say he wasn't around, if anything happened, they would have Sammy wrapped up in child protection issues before I could blink. Walking back round his desk Scropton closed my file and looked up at me. He didn't have to spell it out, I was gone

**Tuesday  
**  
I broke into Scropton's office today, I told Sam I had to leave early to meet a girl. Sucker believed me, such is my awesome reputation that he didn't even ask who. So at six I was at Scropton's door picking the lock. Dad got me my own set for my birthday last year. Two seconds and I was in, man, security in schools is non-existent. I found the file in the second draw down.

There was no photo, and just a few scrawled notes on lined paper. Sonofabitch, if they had my records from my previous school. We were in deep trouble. I checked the filing cabinet for Sam's file. It was as thin as mine with even less written in it, even better.

At our previous school there was a time when Sam and I had come to school looking like we had been badly beaten, having come back from a particularly nasty hunt. Things had been said and our names had been put on list but there was nothing in my file here or Sammy's, that was good, right?

**Friday  
**  
Still no Dad, I tried ringing Wednesday and Thursday, I left messages both times because Wednesday the landlord came and said that the rent money Dad left ran out last week and if we didn't pay we were out. Sammy heard the man and when I came back into the room he had put his earnings on the table. I gave them back to him. Saying it was ok, I didn't need his money I had enough.

I haven't but I'll get it. Tomorrow is Saturday I'll go hustle some. Trouble is, with being here for nearly four weeks I am beginning to run out of places that don't know me.

**Saturday**

There was a letter today addressed to Dad, from school. They are stupid, it has the school crest all over it so if any kid wants to intercept a letter from school then they make it easy. I opened it. That freaking Scropton didn't even wait for me to ask Dad. He wrote it all in a letter asking him to come in next Wednesday. I am not worried about me its just Sammy. If Dad doesn't show up and they get those records from the other school, what will they do?

Lunchtime I went to the pool hall downtown. Chris was there and we played a couple of frames. I told him I needed money, couple of hundred should do it. He laughed and said I had better rob a bank. I asked if he knew if there was a game and he said there was but it was out of my league. I tried to bluff him but he knew I didn't have the kind of stake money a game like that takes.

I tried ringing Dad but still no answer I left another message.

I hung around till late. I didn't want to go back to the room. Sam was bound to ask if I'd paid the rent and I didn't want to lie to him.

He was still up, watching TV, when I did get in so I just shouted I was going to bed and when he came in I pretended to be sleep.

**Sunday  
**  
I found one of Dad's credit cards in his drawer, well to be precise, I went into the tin in his drawer looking for the cards he has. The name is Mr. Nicholas Franklyn. I practised the signature a couple of thousand times and now it looks reasonably like the one on the card. It should pass.

I'll have to go into a bank because the Landlord wants cash. I borrowed an iron from the girl next door and ironed one of Dad's shirts then stuck his jacket over it. I told Sam I was going for an interview for a job, he laughed and said I looked like a real estater it's a good job I was dressed up or I would have had to knock some respect into him. I hung the stuff on a hanger ready for tomorrow.

**Monday  
**  
I GOT IT. I skipped school this morning and took a bus out of town. I didn't want to use the bank here, it was too risky.

I stood outside the bank for an hour and then when it was crowded, the lunch time rush, I went in gave the card to the girl and asked for $500 and she gave it to me. It seemed to take ages for her to count it out but then she pushed it underneath the screen and said "Thank you for banking with us today, sir." She called me sir! I took the money stuffed, it in my pocket and forced myself to walk out through the door and round the corner. My knees felt like jelly and I threw up in the alley.

I paid the Landlord and kept the rest for emergencies, like food. I then bought me and Sammy some beers for tonight. Hell, I had ID saying I was twenty three and a credit card to back it up.

I changed back into my jeans and t-shirt and I was putting the card back into Dad's tin when I found the letter again. I 'd stuffed it into Dad's drawer so Sam didn't find it. Damn that was another day they were going to add to the list. I tried Dad's cell again, still voice message. I left another voice mail asking him to phone urgently.

**Wednesday  
**  
Still no Dad, he didn't appear and didn't answer my calls. The meeting with Scropton was for 2pm there was no way Dad was going to be there. So I phoned school, first thing and made my voice all gruff like Dad. Told them I couldn't make today and would next week do. The secretary said she would ask but I told her I couldn't wait and they could write. I put the phone down real quick. I was sweating, I would rather face a banshee any day.

Mrs. Kandinsky asked me to stay behind after science today. I wondered what now. She liked me, despite the desk incident. I knew that, by the way she smiled when I gave her some excuse why the homework wasn't done. She never disbelieved me, to my face, always nodded and asked real nice for me to get it done.

She asked me to sit down. Why do they always ask you to sit down?

"Dean" she began "You have an inherent intelligence." Well that was a first, no one had said that to me before. "You have the capability to do very well. I have chatted to your other teachers and they agree that if you had applied yourself earlier you could have been Ivy League material." That floored me, I found myself going red, Sam was the clever one, not me. I never thought of me as clever.

"Unfortunately, despite being a very able student, your attendance and lack of application has let you down but I still think you could make it to a decent college if you knuckle down and got some good grades in."

She let me go after a fifteen minute lecture about fulfilling myself and working hard and all the crap that teachers come out with when they are on your side but it was the bit about college that remained with me. I had never thought about college, hell never even thought about graduation really, only Dad going on about it made me stay in school, anyway.

I mean, I took the decision a while ago that I was going to hunt, that I would hunt with Dad. I enjoyed it, was sure more interesting than watching the inside of a reference book, but that talk with Kandinsky did something, something that I will never forgive her for, it set my brain going.

Could I go to college? Would Dad let me?

**Saturday  
**  
Three weeks and still no Dad, I tried his cell all today but only got the message service. I wish he would answer. This is the longest he has ever been away and not left us with Caleb or Pastor Jim. I try not to show it to Sammy but I am really worried.

**Sunday  
**  
I sent Sammy off to the store and then I phoned Pastor Jim. I tried not to sound too panicked and just asked him if he had heard from Dad. He told me that Dad had passed through two weeks ago but that he hadn't heard from him since then. I asked him what Dad was working on but he didn't know. He promised to call a few people and make discreet enquiries. He asked if we were all right for money and when I hesitated he said he would wire some.

Sammy asked me about Dad, he's worried too.

**Monday  
**  
There was another letter today, from school, with another appointment, for Thursday. I put it away in the drawer.

**Tuesday  
**  
Pastor Jim called today, I was in the middle of Math. I don't normally take the phone into class but I didn't want to miss Dad if he called. It's a good job Dad bought us these new cell phones. Fortunately Mr. Pringle had gone into his stock cupboard. We reckoned he went to have a quick smoke, he always reeked of tobacco, his nickname is Ash. I called back at recess. Pastor Jim said that he had rung around a few people but no one had seen Dad but I wasn't to worry he would turn up. I was tempted to tell him about school but I didn't.

**Monday (Three weeks later)**

2am that Thursday three weeks ago, Sam was restless and eventually he asked me if I was awake. I said yes. Then he got up out of bed and started rummaging in the waste bin. I asked him what he was doing but he just kept pulling bits of paper out, looking at them and throwing them on the floor. At last he unscrewed one gave a yelping "Yes," and leapt onto the bed, "there." He pushed the paper into my face. On the paper were five digits a group of two then a dash and a group of four: A grid reference. Then with triumph he told me that that was where Dad was. He said that Dad had been working on the map the night before he left and he remembered Dad screwing up the paper and throwing it, before he packed everything. That's my Sammy, thinks sideways.

I tried to make Sam stay but he was as worried about Dad as I was and he also pointed out that If I left him he would have to worry about me as well. I also thought about the meeting at school and Dad not turning up. If I took Sam then that stopped them from asking him any awkward questions as to where I was and where Dad was and worse, them discovering that neither Dad nor I were around to look after Sam.

We grabbed the tool bag and two streets away I jacked a car. I'm getting good, it only took one go and we were in; Sammy grinning at me. He seemed to have gotten over his disapproval of stealing cars. He poured over the map and I drove out past the town limits.

We must have driven for over five hours. I was beat and my eyes kept trying to close. Sam nudged me told me to pull over and stop. We pulled a blanket through from the back seat, lay it over us and we slept.

It was midday when I woke up. I let Sam sleep on and drove on for another couple of hours. Stopping only to get gas and food. I threw the bag of stuff onto Sam and watched him flail around waking up. I let him eat then we checked the map together. We had about a 150 miles to go to the grid reference.

I pulled the car off the road at the nearest point to the reference, Sam hauled the bag from the back seat and folding the map to show just the bit we were on he checked the direction. I followed him I am good at map reading but Sam is shit-hot.

We trudged for about an hour and the path, because we realised there was a path, took us into some woodland. There were plenty of trees and the canopy above had kept the floor fairly free from undergrowth. I stopped us every fifty yards or so and listened but there was only bird song and normal type rustling. I was beginning to get worried all over again. Where the hell was Dad?

"We're here." Sammy had stopped us dead over the spot. Looking around it was just forest; trees, leaves, the odd bush, twigs, but no Dad, not anything that might have given us a clue. I dumped the bag down. I wasn't sure what to do but I didn't want Sam to see that so I took out the cell and tried Dad.

It is a chilling thing to hear the ring tone of a phone you are calling, three yards away from you. I couldn't help thinking, "God Where the heck is Dad?" Sam picked it up his face was serious. I couldn't say that to him and all I could think of instead was "Well at least we know he was here." Great help that Dean, marvellous. I was beginning to feel out of my depth.

We stayed until it began to get dark. I'd made a small fire and got us a hot drink but that was all.

Then Sam suggested that we go back to the car while we could still see something of the way. He was right and I followed his bouncing flashlight still trying to figure my next move.

Where it came from I don't know but the next thing I know is I am slammed into a tree by some hairy, slobbering thing. Its claws are fastened into my shoulder and my chest and I can't breathe, its weight is crushing me. I can hear myself shouting, screaming at Sam to run.

It breath was foul and hot on my face, and its teeth were getting closer and closer to my neck. I grabbed its jaws and felt the sticky saliva slicking over my hands. It's too disgusting for words, but at that time I was more interested in keeping it from biting me. There was a loud BANG and the thing gave a yelp and stiffened. Suddenly I was released and falling. I hit the ground hard and rolled pulling my knife from its sheath but the thing had gone and there was only Sammy pistol in his hand.

The pain hit me like a sledge-hammer. I had heard about adrenaline and stuff stopping pain while the body rid itself of danger but that was the first time I had experienced it. I lay panting unable to move while Sam was kneeling above me crying and asking me to tell him what to do. I could hear him but it was like it was distant. I tried to move, to lift my arm but the lacerations on my shoulder and my side, burned and I could feel my hot blood running over my skin. Everything closed in, a blackness folding in on itself and I felt myself losing consciousness.

Sammy told me that he had been so frightened, he thought I was dying. I told him afterwards that I thought dying would have been less painful.

How long he sat there next to me I don't know but he had ripped up his shirt and tightly bandaged the open wounds managing to stop most of the bleeding, but I had been too much of a dead weight for him to move me.

When I opened my eyes he was next to me one hand on my stomach and the other holding Dad's pistol. " Dean," he was so pleased I was awake that, I swear, if I hadn't groaned he would have hugged me. I asked what the hell had hit me, he looked down then and I knew; a werewolf. I had been gored by a werewolf. I still shudder when I think back how close it could have been.

"Do you think you are…..infected."

I remember thinking that's my Sam don't go round the houses. I didn't know.

"It didn't bite you only ripped you with its claws."

Thank you Sam I had noticed.

"The trouble is,"

I saw that Sam was trembling I wasn't sure if it was cold or terror. He continued.

"The trouble is I can't remember if they have to bite you or if clawing you will do it. I… I've been sitting here trying to remember."

He looked very pale as the trembling increased. I knew what was happening to him, now that he had seen that I was not dead his body had begun to shut down and was going into shock. He kept rocking and rocking saying, "I shot it, it should be dead, I shot it, it should be dead."

I asked him to help me sit up but I got no reaction. I rolled slightly and using my good shoulder and arm, I levered myself into a sitting position. It hurt, a lot, but by squirming around so I could lean back on a tree, I managed to find a position where it hurt but didn't threaten to send me crazy.

I had to say his name several times before he looked up and answered me. I told Sam that he had done all he could, that he had saved me. He had at least scared the thing off and that it took a silver bullet to the heart to kill a werewolf. It was Sam's stare that scared me more than anything and I was scared when he told me in a flat voice that he had loaded silver bullets and that he had shot it through the heart. I knew that he hadn't missed because Sam never missed. Except that one time when he first started shooting and he got me instead.

"Dean, it didn't die and …and there's no full moon. It didn't die."

That was when it got officially scary. Things that follow rules can be dealt with, sliced and diced, burned up, skewered anything according to the code set down but stuff that didn't, stuff that went around NOT following the rules could totally screw you over.

I knew then that we had to get our asses out there as soon as possible. We couldn't fight something that we didn't know how to kill, especially something that strong. I told Sam to get the tool bag. He crawled over and dragged it back towards me leaving a white heap and smeared trail. It looked like the salt canister had come open. Still that was a minor worry, I was more concerned with Sam. All the time I kept talking to Sam, quiet and low keeping him calm; a calm that I didn't feel myself.

"That's it Sam get the bag, then we can get out of here, that's right pull it towards us, okay, good, now help me up, just slip your arm under my shoulders, Ahhh , it's okay, it's okay, just caught it, that's good, good." I kept this up through gritted teeth. Several times I thought I was going to pass out but I stopped and everything slued back into place as I breathed hard.

Sam tucked himself under my arm; one of these days he is going to be taller than I am I am sure of it. He took some of my weight and he must have heard me suck in my breath when I tried taking a step because he tightened his grip.

Without any warning, no snarl, no step, no sound it was there, standing in our way. Like it knew we were trying to get back to the car. It must have stood seven, eight-foot tall on its hind legs, shaggy long hair but knotted, tangled, with foul smelling, putrid matter sticking it together. I could feel Sammy cringe and I tried to push him behind me, but a sharp pain made me swear as it stabbed into my side. I collapsed forwards onto my hands and knees and there was nothing I could do, as the thing suddenly moved, dropping down onto all fours and bounding towards me. Sam, somewhere behind me screamed my name but I couldn't move, the pain intensifying as the creature closed the distance. We were gonna die.

A flair, a flash, red, orange, yellow and the smell, the incredible, unimaginable, stench of burning hair, and flesh. I could hear Sam being sick and I retched in my turn, my stomach turning revolving, rejecting the invading smell.

Yards from us the thing had burst into flame; searing the night sky, filling the clearing with a howling so hideous, so appalling that we hardly noticed the burning on our exposed skin from the heat of the flames. Then as if someone had flicked a switch it all stopped and the night silence settle around us as we gasped for breath.

I don't remember the journey back to the car. Sam tells me that I was incoherent, irrational, babbling nonsense, complete gibberish. He had got me back, laid me full length on the back seat and phoned Pastor Jim.

The next thing I remember is Dad looking down at me, laughing as I winced with pain. Mind you he looked a bit rough too. He told me that next time I had to be more careful. NEXT TIME ! Sam appeared behind him, he'd brought me a drink and he told Dad that before he made any more jokes at my expense he ought to tell me what happened to him.

Dad looked a bit sheepish because apparently it had jumped him, and strung him up, keeping him alive till it needed food; apparently it likes its prey kicking. Then when it didn't come back Dad had eventually, been able to free himself, and make his way back not knowing that we had been in the forest at all. Dad had got back to his car and driven to the nearest phone box. He'd been shocked when Pastor Jim had answered my cell.

It turns out that this thing was a Loup Garou a man/wolf, similar to a werewolf but more like a shapeshifter. The human can turn into the wolf shape at will, there was a big word Sam used, Lycanthrope, its not governed by the moon cycle but by the human using trance techniques to transform. Therefore the silver bullets had no effect because a Loup Garou can only be killed in its anthropoid form.

So why did it go up in flames? I didn't understand. Sam jumped in eager to explain.

"You remember the canister of salt came open and spilled on the ground. Well it appears that the merest touch of salt causes a Loup Garou to combust." He grinned. "Woosh!"

**Tuesday (1 week later)  
**  
I am much better today, still a little stiff and the scabs are itching like crazy but Pastor Jim says they will only leave small scars if I don't scratch them. They are driving me crazy though.

I am not going back to that school, not that I am in the least bothered except… I'll never see Mrs. Kandinsky again but I will remember her words, I will remember her saying that I was intelligent and that I could have been Ivy League material. I could have gone to college. It means a lot to me knowing that I had the potential, had the choice. I have been thinking about it a lot going to college, I would really like to go and maybe somewhere down the line I will go but I think for now I need to choose to be with Dad and Sammy, they need me and I need them.


	3. Dean's Diary Extract 3

An Extract from the Diary of Dean Winchester.

**Summer  
**  
**Saturday**

Sam had another nightmare last night. I heard him whimpering and then he began thrashing around. I had to get out of bed and sit with him till he calmed down. This must be the fourth one this month. He used to get them when he was little and I used to sit with him, till he went back to sleep. Then they stopped and he only used to get them occasionally like most kids but just recently they've been getting bad again. Last night he was shouting and I was afraid he might wake Dad up. I couldn't make out what he was saying but he was scared I could tell that. So I sat on his bed and put my hand on his shoulder. He was sweating and mumbling it went on for nearly an hour. I've tried waking him but it doesn't seem to do any good he gets more agitated and starts crying and won't stop so I have learnt to leave him alone and just be there for him. Last night he eventually woke and clung on to me, wouldn't let me leave him.

Its funny we don't talk about them in the morning. It's just something Sammy does and he knows that I will be there when he wakes up.

X

The human body is made up of fifty to sixty per cent water. Sammy told me that today. It's very interesting especially when you have just saved your only brother from drowning. It's the kind of information that you really need to know.

We went swimming because it had been hot. Hot for weeks. Sam had been going to school and I was helping Dad with straightforward spirit haunting in the next town.

The Impala had been like an oven on the way back and I could feel the sweat trickling down my neck and my T-shirt was sticking to my back. There was no shade along the road and there was no air-conditioning apart from having the windows open and that was useless even when we were moving because the air was just as hot outside. A black car in the height of summer is not a good place to be.

Sam was back from school and doing his homework when we dumped the bags and Dad headed for the shower. I stripped off to my boxers and flopped down on the bed but the room was stifling. I asked Sam how he could concentrate in the heat and he just shook his head and replied that he had to get it done. Man, my brother can be so boring at times. It was then that he mentioned that several of his mates were going down to the local millpond for a party and I could go if I wanted.

I was up for it but he kept on writing. God he can be a right geek sometimes. I tried to persuade him saying I couldn't just turn up and barge in, well I could have but I told him that it would be so much easier with him to introduce me. He wasn't buying it. It wasn't that I wanted to hang out with a load of Sammy's geeky friends but the lure of a swim in cool water outweighed any objection I could come up with.

Dad went out and got us a burger for tea but I didn't feel much like eating. I kept flipping the fries at Sammy's head, hit him nine times out of ten, not bad, but he got annoyed when one landed on his paper and left a big grease mark. Then Dad started on at him told him that he shouldn't waste his time on school work on a day like today and that he should take advantage of the good weather and go for a run.

That made Sam angry, Dad often makes Sam angry and they had a shouting match. Sammy saying that his school work was important and that Dad should be pleased that he wanted to learn. Then Dad was bawling at him saying that it was a waste of time and all he needed to do was enough to graduate. They kept on and on and then I got in between them and got slammed for trying to smooth things over. Eventually I dragged Sam out the door and held him up against the wall outside till he calmed down. Jeeze he was near to tears.

I said that we should let Dad cool down, as if that was gonna happen in this heat and how about we go for that swim, I am not above using situations for my own advantage. Sam didn't say anything, so I dodged into the room and grabbed a couple of towels and our swim shorts.

It seemed like the whole town was at the millpond. Well, the teenage population. It was a small town. The boys were showing off. Someone had set up a rope as a swing and they were running up, jumping, catching hold of the rope, letting it swing them out and then dropping, splosh into the water. It looked like fun. BUT….

The girls were laid out on towels soaking up the sun. Now that was a sight. Bikini clad girls. I could have sat there for the rest of the afternoon admiring the view but Sam pulled me away. Sometimes I really wonder what he sees, actually sees in the world. I mean what else is there when there are bikini clad girls around. It turns out he'd spotted some guy he knew from school. He introduced us and I nodded a hello, I think Sam could tell we were a bit distracted when both of us kept sliding looks at the girls, much to Sam's annoyance.

Why do girls giggle and scream? It's the one thing that puts me off them. They saw us looking and went into that girly thing where they whisper behind their hands and keep looking at you. Then they all giggled. Man, that's so annoying 'cause you're not sure if they like you or they're making fun of you. Probably both.

I managed to get rid of Sam; he went off to be with his geek friends. I went behind a bush took off my T-shirt and shimmied out of my jeans and boxers and pulled on the swim shorts. They were just boxers really with the hole sewn up but you couldn't tell. I sploshed in for a swim, the water was heaven, warm but cool at the same time. I powered across the pond and back, avoiding the jumpers and then pulled out close to the girls. They were giggling again.

The sun felt good now, the hottest part of the day was over. That's what I was thinking, when one girl, not small but perfectly proportioned asked if she could sit next to me. Who was I to say no?

I checked where Sam was he seemed to be ok, too occupied to give me his disapproving stare. It looked like his friends were trying to play dare, walking deeper and deeper into the pond, grinning madly at each other the deeper they went. He could cope while I dealt with the distraction sitting next to me.

So help me I hate certain pieces of anatomy at times. I had to sit forward and cross my legs and all the time she was sat close to me chatting idly about …..I have no idea what because all my senses were dealing with a more immediate problem.

Then she really did for me, leaned forward, breasts on display in the teansiest top and kissed me. DEAR GOD how I didn't … there and then I don't know but I held on. She drew back and giggled looking over her shoulder at her friends.

I was vaguely aware that something was going on at the water but as I said my attention was somewhat occupied. I heard shouting and people began to stand up. I looked up and instinctively scanned for Sam. I was suddenly alert, I couldn't locate him. I saw his friends backing away from a space of rippling water.

Then with dread, I knew. I was shouting, "F*ck Sam no, no." running, crashing into the water, diving down. I opened my eyes but the water was muddy, I thrashed around, coming up for air, frantically diving again trying to feel for him with my hands.

My leg brushed against something and even though my lungs were bursting I kicked downwards and felt it again. I grabbed on, it was an arm and pulled, heaving, desperate to get Sam up and into the air but he seemed to be stuck, wouldn't move. Not letting go I managed to surface and gulp some air and dove back down. I felt along his body, his legs and found weed wrapped around his ankle. I pulled, it was slimy and my fingers just slipped. I held onto his leg, jerking, jerking until the weed ripped from the bed and Sam came free. I surged for the surface pulling him with me. Then I was swimming, pulling Sam with me heading for the shore. Finally my feet touched ground .

Sam was limp in my arms as I lifted him from the water, carrying him, lying him down. Training kicked in. I checked his airway, tilted his head back, was about to pinch his nose when he began coughing, water spilling out of his mouth. I turned him on his side, letting him cough, rubbing his back. He lay eyes closed rasping in breaths of air.

One of the girls asked if he was alright and it was then that I realised no one had helped me, no one else had dived into the water, no one had helped me carry Sam to shore. They had all just stood and watched. I told her that he was gonna be okay and that they needn't worry I would take care of him. I was angry, what would have happened if I hadn't been there would they have let him drown?

People drifted away after that, leaving me alone with Sam. I wrapped him up in both our towels rubbing at his arms and back and eventually he seemed to revive. He was still shivering as I tried to dress him. He wasn't cold, I think it was shock. I put my T-shirt on him as well. All the time he kept looking at me with those big eyes of his through his wet hair. Trust my geek brother to come up with a fool proof way of spoiling my fun but really that didn't matter as long as Sam was okay.

On the way home we decided,… I decided that we probably wouldn't tell Dad. I went in first but Dad wasn't around so I sent Sam for a hot shower, shoved his pyjamas into the bathroom for him to dress in and stuck a hoody in just to be sure that he was warm enough. When he was in bed I made him a milky coffee and watched as he sat hunched, both hands cupped around the mug resting it on his knees.

I asked him if he was okay and he nodded sipping at his coffee. His eyes never left me while I moved around and sorted out the wet stuff. Then he spoke. "Something held me down." I stopped and looked at him not sure if he was making sense. He repeated it and I was sure. "Something held me down, Dean. Grabbed my ankle. Pulled." I told him not to be so soft that it had been weed caught round his leg. He shook his head. Lifted the covers and pulled up the leg of his pyjamas. Round his swollen ankle were four long bruises and another, which crossed diagonally upward. Just like someone had gripped his ankle and held on tightly.

**Sunday**

I had to sit with Sam through another nightmare. It could have been brought on by the shock of the near drowning, it would be enough to give anyone bad dreams but I don't think so. He's never had one, two nights in a row. I wish he would let me talk to Dad about them but he won't. He doesn't say anything but I know he doesn't want me to say.

Dad grumbled about all the wet towels and shorts hanging around the room so I took them and the washing to the Laundromat. Sam came with me, he tends to shadow me after a nightmare and I could tell he wanted to talk about yesterday, somewhere Dad couldn't hear. He was limping, I checked his ankle and the swelling had gone down but the bruises had developed to a livid yellow and black.

I asked him to tell me what happened to try and tell me exactly. He said he'd been messing around as I had seen him, with his geek friends. Apparently they weren't daring each other to go deeper as I had thought but conducting an experiment. I shook my head inwardly, only Sammy. Sam said that he was careful not to go out of his depth because he couldn't swim. I stopped him there, couldn't swim?

I thought Sam could swim, I suppose I should say I f*cking assumed he could swim. I never asked him and he never said he couldn't. I mean the subject never arose.

I remember mucking about in rivers with Sam when we were younger, pushing each other under and splashing and stuff but now I think back, did we actually swim? I am not sure if we did. Dad taught me years ago, well, he threw me in a deep pond and watched as I struggled to shore, laughing at my attempt. Then stood waist deep in the water and showed me how. It was a good day, I can't remember now, where Sam was but I am pretty sure that it was just me and Dad. Now, I'm good, fast, as my speed in getting to Sammy showed.

I told him I didn't know he couldn't swim. He said there were lots of things about him I didn't know. Anyway he had been careful to keep within his depth, when he had felt something grab him and pull him under. He said he remembered panicking and coming up and shouting but the others just stood there. He said he was shouting as whatever it was pulled him down because he got a mouthful of water as he went under but nobody moved to help him. It all got a bit vague then he said he remembered thrashing around trying to bend and lever off whatever was holding him but then he just remembered the sound of the water in his ears and ….not much else till he was coughing up and I was with him.

**Monday**

Dad went off to do some stuff on his own so that left me free to go down the Library with Sam. He had told me yesterday that he was gonna go and do some research into the millpond. I'd asked him about school and he said that this was more important. There's a first.

Sam seems to be instinctive about this stuff. He seems to know exactly where to look. By lunch time he had compiled a list of drownings at the pond. He'd been back through the local paper archives. Over a two hundred and fifty drownings, one or two a year, sometimes more, over the last hundred years. Jeeze if I had been the town I would have drained the thing. All were attributed to tragic accidents, with pictures of grieving parents and heart wrenching pieces in the memorandum sections. I marvelled that they still let their kids go down there.

Sam is now convinced that something is going on at the pond and I am inclined to agree with him. Then he went over and smiled sweetly at the old bat behind the counter and she let him into the local records room and left him with the key to the map cabinet. I don't know how he does it.

It was at this point I got distracted and all thoughts of Sam and the millpond and drowning left my head.

A girl, came in with a pile of books, spoke to The Bat and then made for the Romance Section. She was incredible looking, I hadn't seen her around before but I thought I might be able to persuade her to leave the confines of the Library and do something less boring instead. I followed her. The Library desk was hidden from view by the book stacks and I followed, trying desperately to think of something 'cool' to say. I saw her leafing through a book, something told me she wasn't paying particular attention. I tried to act casual and said "Hey." She looked up and I was drowning, like Sam had, drowning in her deep blue eyes, hearing the blood rushing in my ears as the details of the room slued and faded from my consciousness. She smiled and said "Hey."

I'm in love.

She is perfect, rounded, curved in the nicest possible way, dark brown hair cascading, (See I am using long descriptive words. That's love and what it does for you. I will be writing poetry next!) cascading, down her back, a sweet cherry coloured mouth and blue, blue eyes. I am sure my heart is racing even thinking about her now. Her name is Nixxie. I like that it's beautiful. I told Sam, he was waiting when I got back to the room.

He was waiting with that sucked lemon look he uses so often when I piss him off. I'd left him at the Library and not told him I was going that's not like me but she drove everything from my mind. Sam was not sympathetic to my situation and I got the silent treatment as well as the sucked lemon. I didn't care. I told him we went for a walk. I don't remember what we talked about or where we went but I knew I was happy. Sammy snorted and raised his eyes upward.

Later, after he got over his jilted routine, he showed me what he had found out. According to the maps the pond isn't in fact a millpond. It was there before there ever was a mill. It appears on all the maps from the year dot to present day but isn't labelled until they built the road and the mill nearly two hundred years ago. Not far off the Declaration of Independence. Sam's face when I came out with that. He thinks I don't know anything.

**Tuesday  
**  
I blew Dad off today. I was going to meet Nixxie.

He was pretty pissed at me but I faked throwing up and eventually he left.

We had arranged to meet at the edge of town and my heart was banging in my chest as I walked towards her. She was waiting and she took me into the woods where the tree canopy shielded us from the glare of the sun. It was just me and her, no Dad, no Sam, no ghosts, no demons just me and her.

She took us to a clearing and we sat under a tree hand in hand, until she turned towards me and I kissed her. It was everything I had imagined and better. It wasn't a peck but a deep kiss and _she_put her tongue in my mouth. I can't describe it, it felt so good, warm and gentle but firm and sweet at the same time. She set all sorts of sensations running through my body and she had only kissed me. She snuggled in to me laying her head on my lap and I stroked her hair and she lay and I sat listening to the trees and the birds.

I wanted nothing else. I can still feel that kiss even now as I sit here.

I am meeting her again tomorrow. I don't care what Dad says or Sam I just want to be with her.

**Wednesday  
**  
Sam kept me up half the night, again. I got to the point where I was getting cross with him. I didn't want to have to deal with his freaky crap all the time I just wanted to concentrate on Nixxie. I left him alone. I know I shouldn't have done and I was in the same room but I just stayed on my bed and didn't sit with him. He still kept me up and for some reason it seemed worse but I didn't give in and go to him. I am not always going to be there so he'd better start learning.

Sam tried to talk to me this morning but I brushed him off I was going to meet Nixxie. He tried to stop me but I pushed him, pushed him so hard that he fell and banged his head on the table. I left, I didn't check if he was alright, I didn't even speak to him I just left. I was sick of him trying to stop me having fun at every turn.

I wish I had gone to him last night, I wish I had listened to him this morning.

This time Nixxie and I went to the millpond, there was no one else there because they were at school. I think she could tell I wasn't happy. She didn't know about Sam nearly drowning but I think she sensed a reluctance. I was also a little apprehensive about entering its watery confines after what Sam had found out about the pond.

She laughed at the look on my face and then she suggested we go skinny dipping. Hell, all thoughts of anything went out of my mind at that point. Then she showed me she had her bikini on under her clothes. She was teasing and I loved it.

We stepped into that cool, cool water hand in hand, and I could think of nothing else but her and letting the water creep up our hot bodies as we walked further out away from the shore. She suddenly launched herself in, swimming away from me laughing and I followed catching her easily and pulling her too me. I could feel her skin touching me as I gave her a wet kiss, her body moulded itself to mine and at that point I was lost totally.

I remember very little of what happened next except the pure sensations she was rending from my body. Somehow we made it back to shore but I was only aware of her cool hands on my hot flesh, of her lips roaming all over.

Then it got better, OH GOD did it get better. I was drowning in her essence, pleasure cascading through me, flushing, rushing, flooding, surging like a torrent and at its peak, at the point where I didn't care about anything else in the world came a searing burning pain and she was tearing at my flesh. I remembering crying out struggling, but she held me, mouth on my body, biting, ripping, sucking. I felt faint and everything began to spin. I couldn't stop her. I tried fighting but she was too strong and I was weakening, fading. All I could feel was the agonising pain as she drew blood from me.

The air vibrated, screeching, howling, a horrible inhuman wailing and I felt her being tearing at me still, her fingers, her teeth digging in and then ripping away. I remember thinking I was going to die if I didn't do something. I rolled my body getting her under me and tried to choke her but it seemed to have no effect. All the time she was screaming digging at me with her nails. I tried to reach my knife which I had hidden in my pants but I couldn't find it. She broke my grip sunk her teeth into my chest and sucked. The pain was true torture and I arched back trying to get away but she hung on sucking and sucking.

I don't remember much else until Sam was calling my name. I could hear him a long way off. I hurt, hurt all over and I felt so weak that even though I tried, I couldn't call out to him, I groaned instead. Then he was there beside me. Shaking me, making me hurt even more. I was so glad to see him and I kept apologising to him for everything.

Later he told me he thought I was dead, there was so much blood everywhere, but then I'd groaned and then he couldn't shut me up. He cleaned me up as best he could but it was dark by the time I could move. Sam tried to carry me but I was too heavy and the journey back to the room was hell, I kept having to stop, sit and rest and what should have taken twenty minutes at the most took us nearly two hours. I can honestly say I have never felt so bad as I when I lay on my bed that night, my whole body one sore, aching, mass.

**Thursday  
**  
Sam was with me all night. I know because he was there when I went to sleep and he was still in there, in the early hours, when I woke up aching. He was asleep next to me. His head was on my chest, the gash on his brow, where I had pushed him over, dark against the pale skin on his face. I felt bad it should be me looking after him not the other way round. It was then that I realised just how much I love my little brother. He might be annoying, might keep me up all night, might be insufferable, always arguing with Dad, being the pain in the ass but he was there when I needed him and I think he will always be there as I will be for him. I pulled up the cover, put my arm around him and let him sleep. It's funny he slept soundly that night lying next to me.

I had to put on a brave face when Dad came in, he was pretty pissed because I told him I still had a bad stomach, huh I wish that was all but he left soon after, and I was able to look at the damage to my body. I had bite marks all over where she had not only bitten but ripped as well and places where she had dug her fingers in and gouged great groves. Sam had done his best to patch me up but I looked a mess. Fortunately they weren't too deep but Sam explained that she was after sucking on my blood like some mythical vampire rather than eating me. I wasn't sure if the distinction really mattered.

It turned out she was a Glaistig, a kind of Water Spirit.

He had surmised from his research that the drownings were some kind of sacrificial ritual, which kept the Glaistig happy and stopped her coming after the town's people. He had been back to the Library and been on the internet looking up sacrificial rites and their origins. He had come across a picture of a water spirit, a Glaistig or Nixie, the name had struck terror into him and then panic had set in he had grabbed the printed pages and come looking for me.

He worked out that he was supposed to have been her next victim and that's why the others had just stood there and let him drown. Better some stranger appease the spirit, than one of them, nice.

When I had saved him he reckoned that I had pissed her off badly, depriving her of her feast and she had come after me. Enchanting me, luring me. F*ck that was some luring I could still feel the tingling now despite the pain in the rest of my body.

According to legend, he read this bit to me to make his point I think. "If she chooses, instead of drowning her victim, the Glaistig would give of herself, especially to a male victim, bestowing on him untold pleasures before devouring him and sucking him dry of blood." I didn't tell Sammy that this bit was true but I think he kind of guessed.

He had deduced that she would take me to the millpond and had run through the town and through the wood looking for me. He had heard her screaming and wailing, seen her attacking me. I now find that the reason I couldn't find my knife was because he had grabbed it from my pants knowing I wouldn't have come without it and thrown it into the pond.

I realised the instant he told me, why he had done that. The knife had a iron blade and by throwing it into the pond he had neutralised her power and negated her spirit. He went on to tell me, unnecessarily, that the ancient Celts used to throw offerings of iron tools and Jewellery into pools in order to appease the Gods.

He told me all this with a wicked grin. I tried to cuff him and groaned as he danced out of reach. I could tell that he wasn't going to let me forget this in a hurry but then I had something over him too, my little brother couldn't swim but I was gonna rectify that a soon as I could bring myself to go in the water again.


	4. Dean's Diary Extract 4

_Author's note: This particular extract was written before Sam and Dean encountered faeries in 'Clap your hands if you believe' Up until then the story was in cannon._

An Extract from the Diary of Dean Winchester.  
Extract 4

**Wednesday  
**  
Sam is being secretive. I am sure of it. He comes in from school, does his homework, then goes out again. Sammy never goes out. I wonder if he has girlfriend? I asked him yesterday and he laughed at me, as if it was the stupidist thing ever.

Dad and I just got back from a hunt, not very exciting, just a clean up really, in a house that had some cursed objects. Dad took them outside muttering to himself and read the incantation. It didn't take long and the lady owner gave us 'tea and biscuits'.

Dad drove back, even though he said I could. He was pissed I could tell. He kept telling me that we weren't a dialup service and if Caleb had any more jobs like that he could keep them.

Sam was packing his bag when I opened the door and boy did he look guilty. I was about to ask him where he was going when he breezed past me shouting he was off out and would be back before eleven.

I asked Dad if he thought Sammy had a girlfriend and he said he didn't think so but that if Sam did, I was to leave him alone and not tease him. I promised; easier said than done.

**Friday  
**  
Okay so that's eight days in a row. What are you up to little brother?

**Saturday  
**  
I followed Sam today. I know, I know, I shouldn't have but I was curious. Dad had gone off somewhere on his own so I watched TV and pretended to fall asleep. Sam sat around for a bit reading some book or other and sure enough he skipped off but this time with me tagging behind.

He walked out of town and down an overgrown path or rather it had been overgrown, I detected signs of Sam's knife having cut back a few branches and in the muddy patches he had left the imprint of his shoe. So he had been here before, several times if I wasn't mistaken but there were no other footprints, just a few animal tracks.

He did nothing. Either that or she didn't show. He just sat in the corner of a field, by two particularly overgrown hedges, leaning back on a tree. He sat there 'til it got dark and then left.

I had to be pretty quick getting back ahead of him and when he came in I asked, all casual, if he'd had a good time. He shrugged and said yeah and went to bed. What the hell is he doing?

**Monday**

Today Sam bought some dog food. I saw it in his bag. What the f*ck for? Has he got a dog somewhere? If he has Dad's never gonna let him keep it. Dad hates dogs. I brought one back with me once when I was eight and he damn near tore my head off. Marched me straight down to the pound and made me hand it over. Poor little thing, it was trembling under my jacket as we sat in the car. I hope it found a good home.

Dad never mentioned it again and I never asked for another pet.

Maybe that's why Sam's hiding it. He knows Dad won't let him keep it.

**Tuesday  
**  
I don't know what to do? I wanna tell Dad but I can't, I promised Sam. I tried to tell him that this is really, really serious crap but he won't listen. He just keeps saying that we'll have to deal with it ourselves.

I was out with Dad, tuning the Impala. Dad was showing me how, when my cell rang. Sammy was incoherent on the other end. I looked up at Dad but he was busy under the hood.

I moved away so he couldn't hear and told Sam to calm down, tell me what happened but all he could do was shout at me that I had to come, had to come straight away. I eventually got out of him that he was at the place where I had seen him sitting. Turns out he knew I had followed him, turns out it was a good job I had, at least I knew where he was.

I made some feeble excuse to Dad who shrugged and carried on with the car. I shot inside grabbed my jacket and stuck my knife in the pocket. It took me twenty-five minutes to get to Sam.

I could see him sitting under that tree. I shouted and he turned towards me. He was a mess, covered in mud, jeans all ripped, more than usual, but his face, geeze it looked bad. I rushed up to him asking him what the hell happened but all he could blurt out was that he couldn't see, couldn't see anything.

That scared the hell out of me.

I could see that his eyes were red and puffy and his skin looked angry and was covered in tiny bleeding scratches. I sat with him calming him, rubbing his back 'cause I didn't know what else to do. That was hard because I felt just as panicked as he did. It was then I realised that there was a stream about a hundred yards away and I practically dragged Sammy down there forgetting he couldn't see until he fell over. I cupped the cold water in my hand and bathed his eyes. He hissed in his breath and I could tell it was hurting, but I kept splashing the water on till he was soaked and crying with the pain, which made it worse.

I eventually got him calm enough to walk back up to his bag. I needed him to tell me what happened. I had nothing to go on, I wanted to phone Dad but he got upset again and made me promise not to tell.

Apparently, he'd been coming here for nearly three weeks. Doing what? It was a freaking field. It nearly broke my heart when he told me to look. I asked him what I was looking at. He said that it was in front of my face and couldn't I see the change in the colour of the grass and the shape. His eyes, bloodshot, stared out unseeing as he tried to show me, stumbling slightly. I grasped his arm and held on to him, more to reassure myself, I think, than him. He pointed.

I looked but was distracted for a moment by something flashing, I just caught the movement but when I turned my head it was gone. I dismissed it and squinted in the sunlight at the ground. From the base of the tree I could see darker grass, dotted with white, a thin line, curving, looping around and back to the trunk. It's a circle. He told me yeah and then seemed to wait as if I should know the significance.

"Its a Cylchau Tylwyth Teg." I said that he would have to run that by me again. He said it again then sighed and said "It's a Faery Ring." I couldn't help laughing. Then I saw his face again and choked it back. I asked him what the white stuff was he said it was Vascellum Pratense or the Meadow Puffball quite common in Faery Rings. He launched into some long explanation, getting more and more wound up. Trouble was thinking back he was trying to make himself feel less…I don't know, bad, anxious, terrified, all the things I was feeling and then some but I cut in, not realising, told him to forget the botany lesson and tell me what happened.

It turned out Sam had been doing his homework, he'd been doing a field boundary survey for his science project, but once he had found the faery ring he said he couldn't leave it, he had felt drawn to it and he would come and sit here, every night, because it made him feel better, more peaceful. He said that sometimes he would let himself fall asleep, somehow knowing that the nightmares wouldn't come and then he would wake up minutes later feeling refreshed as if he had been asleep for hours.

I let him carry on talking, this time, even though it didn't tell me what had happened because as he talked I could see that his initial panic was abating and he was becoming less disturbed. It was as if telling me was soothing him. I kicked myself for stopping him talking earlier, for not understanding and all the time those eyes haunted me.

A breeze came up and sent leaves and blades of grass twirling in front of us like a mini tornado. Sam stiffened and asked me if I felt that. I said "What!" and he said that flurry of air. I told him what I had seen and he looked worried.

He got panicky again and tried to stand up feeling for the tree behind him.

"I think we need to go." The leaves in the tree above us rustled in the wind "NOW".

I didn't understand but I didn't want him to get upset again so I gave him his bag and took his arm and led him home.

Dad had gone out in the Impala, I am glad he had 'cause it made my life so much easier. I got Sam inside, where I cleaned up his scratches and put a hot drink into his shaking hands. I think shock had set in while we were walking home and he was shivering. I undid the laces and pulled off his boots and told him to get into bed. Having finished his drink he lay in a tight ball, arms wrapped tightly round himself. I covered him up and sat with him.

By the time Dad came in Sammy was asleep, which was good because it gave me time to think.

**Wednesday  
**  
When I woke up Sam was still sleeping. I was tempted to wake Dad and tell him but what the hell would I say. "Sorry Dad but Sammy's blind." I had no idea what had happened and Sammy really hadn't been in fit state yesterday to tell me. I decided to wait and talk it over with him before involving Dad.

I sat on Sam's bed for a long while. His face was better not as red or as raw as yesterday and I kinda hoped that when he woke he would be able to see and we could forget the whole thing.

He couldn't, see that is. I had to bathe his eyes before he could open them and they gave me that same blank stare as they had yesterday. It made me shudder.

Sam then said we had to go back. I told him he had to be kidding me. GO BACK! He still hadn't told me what happened. He kept on that we had to go back but we weren't going back unless we were protected.

I nearly shouted at him "PROTECTED FROM WHAT!"

"Faeries."

That floored me. Whatever he was going to say I wasn't expecting that. "Faeries! Come on Sam." I thought the trauma of losing his eyesight must have flipped him, but he sounded upset when he answered me, told me that he'd been doing research, felt around, grabbed his bag that I had put next to the bed and took out one of his notebooks.

It was then that he stopped and held the book out to me and asked me to read it.

That moment, those minutes were the hardest in my life and then I took the notebook from him, made up my mind that however ludicrous it sounded that I was going to help Sammy, make a leap of faith and trust in his instincts.

He told me that the word Fairy comes from the Latin Fata or Fate but it also incorporates the word Fey from old English which means enchanted or bewitched. Seemingly there were lots of different sorts of fairy, he'd listed some, Spriggans, Portunes, goblins, pixies, brownies, trolls, dryads, sylphs, sprites and something I particularly liked a Killmoulis. There was a photocopy of a drawing, the thing had a huge nose and no mouth, it ate by stuffing its food up its nose and it loved playing practical jokes. I went, yeah, I could get on with something like that.

Sam got angry with me then, thought I wasn't taking it seriously started packing his bag up and saying he would do this on his own. I said I was sorry.

He told me to think Demon instead of Fairy, that there was very little difference, faeries liked to cause havoc, mischief, from turning milk sour to kidnapping, rape and murder. I was beginning to follow his thinking and I said to him that this was no different to the things we hunted just evil stuff by another name.

He stopped me there. According to his research not all faeries were bad some actually helped. It was these, Sylphs he called them, that he had been trying to communicate with. I nearly choked on my coffee at that one. I couldn't believe that with all Sammy knew, he would deliberately try to contact something. His face was looking at me but his eyes….. I held my tongue.

Sam then kind of told me what had happened yesterday. He had been sitting in the ring, thinking, opening himself to the sounds, the smells, listening with his mind, like he had been for the past few days.

He said it was like a form of meditation. You allow yourself to relax, close your eyes and begin to visualise the scene changing around you. You see yourself coming to the top of a rocky cliff. The air is strong and the sky is blue. The clouds feel so close you could almost touch them. You move to the edge of the cliff and you can see the whole world laid out before you, the air is crisp and sweet and you feel yourself energised, feel the wind surrounding you. The cliff is a borderline between our reality and theirs. Kind of like a stepping off point.

I was watching him when he was telling me all this and his face changed, had a weird expression, like he was not with me. "And you stepped off." I asked not really wanting to know the answer. He became excited, agitated, "No, no, that was just it something hit me, pushed me back." He was babbling now, not making any sense, talking about the tree, and thorns and being held and then stuff being thrown in his face and stinging his eyes and he had fallen, felt something pulling at him and he was fighting and struggling and crawling forward….then it had all stopped, left him.

He said he had lain for some time trying to bring himself back, catch his breath and it was when he had tried to open his eyes the pain had hit him and he found he couldn't see and he had panicked and called me.

I asked him what he thought had got into his eyes and he grinned and said it was gonna sound stupid. I said what stupider than faeries and we laughed together. That felt good.

Dad came in and asked what we were laughing at. We both said "Nothing." And he grinned at us. It was then I did an insane thing. I asked Dad if we could go camping, tonight. He said sure but…We listened to the buts like we always do and before he left he gave me a twenty. When he had gone I started breathing again, he hadn't noticed Sam's eyes.

Sammy rummaged in his bag and brought out a crumpled piece of paper. He gave it to me and said it was a list of what we need. He thought we had most of the stuff but we needed to stop off and buy some honey. I didn't ask.

**Thursday  
**  
I will never laugh at Faeries again.

Last night really, really frightened me.

When we set out, I will never tell Sammy this, but I was kinda just humouring him, I wasn't sure if anything supernatural had happened. From what he had told me and from the injuries he had sustained I figured he could have fallen asleep and somehow fallen into the Hawthorn bush in the hedgerow; all of which made sense but didn't explain the eyes. Unless it was sap that sprayed into his eyes while he was thrashing around or it could be some kind of shock, trauma thing, but Sam wasn't a shock, trauma kind of kid. He'd seen and been through too much in his life to be spooked by a bush. It was this fact that made me uneasy and made me wonder if something preternatural had taken place.

As we walked to the tree and the hedgerows, Sam told me about the faeries he had been trying to contact. I still can't believe that. Apparently Sylph's communicate through thought…..

Where did he find all this stuff? Can you walk into a Library and say I'd like a book on Fairies please.

… and they can take on the form of a bird or a butterfly or even humans but this is rare most often they appear as a wind or soft breeze. Which is why he got jumpy and wanted to leave, after I had found him, when I described the mini whirlwind.

I stopped him then and shouted at him. I think it was because I was worried and I took it out on him. I said I didn't understand why the hell we were going back if these things were so freaking dangerous. Look what happened to him last time. That was cruel and I knew as soon as I said it that I had gone too far. Sam pulled his arm away from me and said that if I felt like that I could go back and he would do whatever alone.

I caught up with him and said sorry, which I was but that I was worried because I was trying to deal with something I knew squat all about and he grinned and said "What's new!"

The nearer we got the harder Sam gripped onto my arm. I was having to guide him and that made me feel very big brotherly and protective towards him. It also made me realise how vulnerable he was, how young. I forget that he is only thirteen.

He asked me to sit him down under the tree where I had found him and he told me to set up camp outside the ring. He wanted me to stay outside the ring at all times because, he said that if anything went wrong he would need me to pull him out, back into the real world. I didn't like it and I told him so. Whatever had happened, whatever had made him lose his eyesight was something to do with that ring of mushrooms, whether it caused him to fall or some weird little person with stupid wings had attacked him….. I was still having difficulty with that concept.

Sam settled himself leaning on the tree, legs straight, pointing out into the centre of the circle. I sat outside the ring, watching. It was then he told me that he thought the faeries had stolen his sight, by spitting in his eyes, because that's what they did, steal things. He said he knew that it wasn't the Sylph's who had attacked him but some other spirit who had taken exception to his presence. I had a hard time keeping quiet after that little revelation,

I wished I had Sam's confidence but I was beginning to like what he was doing less and less. In the end I couldn't keep quiet and began to protest. "What was there to stop it taking exception again?" He said that Sylphs would stop it. Just like that. I asked how he was so sure and he explained patiently that they liked humans and tried to stimulate their intuitiveness and inventiveness. They liked harmony and awakened greater strength of intellect and will. He carried on saying that they could help an individual connect with certain aspects within themselves, which were hitherto hidden.

I wished I felt as sure as he did. I didn't point out to him that they had allowed his sight to be taken in the first place. Now wasn't the time.

He then told me to put out the Honey and Milk we had brought in the little saucers and that it was always good to bring an offering when dealing with the faeries. I did as he asked feeling a little foolish and sat back down.

It was very quiet and I was aware of all the little sounds around me the rustles, birds, the stream down the bottom of the field. The air cooled as it got darker and I kept watch over Sammy. The shadow of the tree had completely covered him now and he looked like he was sleeping, his breathing was regular and occasionally his hand twitched.

Abruptly the gentle breeze changed, cold gusts of wind drove across the field and dragged at my jacket. It seemed to slam into and then rush past me swirling around the hedge. I stood, moving towards the edge of the circle, shouting Sam's name but the blasting air stole the sound from me, whisking it away. Rain added itself to the surging wind. I shouted again and again, kept shouting. I was in an agony of indecision wondering if I should pull Sam out of the ring but he seemed calm oblivious of the squall battering around us and I was frightened I would mess up his chance of getting his eyesight back.

I knelt at the edge of the ring, the now wet grass soaking moisture into my jeans. "SAMMY." I was still shouting his name as I tried to reach him to touch him, just to reassure myself he was okay. I also knew I need to be in a position where I could haul him out of that ring, if the situation arose, without having to step inside. I crawled closer to the hedge pressing myself along it, moving towards the tree, keeping outside the circle. "Sammy." My fingers just grazed his arm when the wind flung me back into the clutches of a bush. I could feel the thing grip me holding me back from reaching Sam. I struggled but it seemed to draw me further into its depths, trapping my limbs and my body.

The intensity of the wind increased and suddenly Sam was writhing on the ground, crying out in pain. I screamed his name, but he couldn't hear me and I couldn't get to him. The branches held me fast, thin twigs whipping at me, thorns catching my face and my clothes. I could hear the material tearing as I fought to get away, to get to Sam. I could hear him yelling my name but I couldn't reach him. I tried to shout above the wind, trying to tell him I was here, I was coming. Desperately I fought trying to rip myself away from the clawing bush.

Rain pelted, thrown sideways because of the gale. It stung on my face, got in my eyes, I couldn't see Sam. "Sam, SAM…" I shouted again, he didn't hear me, but I could hear his pained voice above the howl of the wind crying out my name over and over.

A thin offshoot wrapped itself around my neck, strangling me cutting off my cries, choking me. I pulled at it with my hand, felt the thorns rip into the flesh but all I knew was that I had to get to Sam. With one last effort I tore my arm free enough to pull out my knife and began slashing at the branches holding me captive.

A fierce shrieking assaulted the air, agonising, violent in its intensity. It vibrated and pain seared through my head. It felt like a great pressure was building inside, pressing on my eyes, filling my head, looking for release. The pain swelled with the heightening of the sound and I could feel liquid trickling from my ears, down my neck. I rubbed at its annoyance with my free hand and I remember the terror, as it came away covered in blood. Fear renewed my struggle. Head feeling like it was going to burst, I yelled, bawled anything to try and get free and rid myself of the pain.

I saw Sam curled on the grass, his head in his hands, blood flowing, rolling in torment. I worked my way towards him using the knife, cutting ripping at the binding branches The air seemed to detonate, in response, reverberating, in piercing sonancy and the wind beating, lashing, threw itself at me pressing me back into the hedges embrace.

I hacked and hacked at the barbs holding me, feeling myself weaken as the sound assaulted my soul but I needed to help Sam. Without warning, something gave and I fell forward onto the ground my hand inside the cordon of dark grass. A spasm of pain speared up my arm and I withdrew it, reflex taking over from conscious thought. I remember letting out a sob, realising that Sam's whole body was inside the ring.

I leaned forward putting my hand once more inside the line of mushrooms, stealing myself against the pain while I reached for Sam. I grabbed his wrist and pulled, heaved and crawling backwards hauling him, I dragged him outside the ring.

The sound cut out as if someone had flicked a switch, the wind died and the rain slowed to a gentle kissing mizzle as I pulled Sammy free of that horrifying circle. I lay arms wrapped around him heaving breath into my body, clutching him to me, rocking him, repeating his name over and over.

That's the last I remember of Wednesday night.

I woke to grey light, to the feel of Sam stirring, he was moving away from me, I tried to tighten my arms stop him as I realised he was crawling back towards the faerie ring. I tried reach for him, to speak the words "Sammy no." but it came out as a croak, my throat raw and he continued. I watched as he reached over the dark line in the grass rubbing his hands in the wet morning dew. He raised them up, pressing them to his face, washing his eyes in the moisture. Then he sat back and slowly withdrew the fingers from his eyelids.

He waited an agony of time and opened his eyes.

**Friday  
**  
YAY. Sam can see.

I don't know how or why but my little brother can see again. When he opened his eyes I was holding my breath, watching his face, looking for a sign, anything to tell me if he was okay.

He started laughing, turned to me and told me I looked like crap and I told him he looked worse.

I have never been so relieved.

We managed to slip into the bathroom unnoticed and Sammy took a shower first while I washed up enough to go get some clean clothes. I didn't want to run slap into Dad looking like I had been dragged through a hedge backwards, even though I literally had.

I was pretty banged up, deep scratches all over me. That freaking bush got me even through my clothes. The worst was round my neck, I had a red raw line, it looked like I had been garrotted by barbed wire and my hands were ripped to shreds. I was sore all over and when I eventually got in the shower it stung like crazy. My hearing seemed to be affected as well, everything sounded muffled and my ears hurt way inside but I was just glad that I hadn't gone deaf.

I checked Sam over but he seemed to be fine physically, just the scratches he got the other day. He said his hearing was muffled too. I looked into his eyes but they seemed to be normal as far as I could tell. He got the giggles and blew me a kiss. I smacked him one.

Then I got serious and asked him to tell me what happened to him. He looked weird and tried to avoid the issue by tidying up our dirty clothes. I wasn't letting him get away with that and I sat him down. Tell me I said and waited.

Sam said that he had led himself through the preparation and thinks he slipped into the meditative state fairly quickly. The sounds around him had seemed to fade, although he was still aware of them. After a while he could hear whispering, indistinct, but definitely whispering. He remembered making a conscious effort not to communicate but just stood on the edge of his cliff feeling peaceful, almost euphoric.

He stepped off.

Sam's being changed when he told me this. I don't know how to describe it. He didn't stop being Sam and he was sat in front of me but somehow he was different. He continued. He said he felt like he was floating and he realised that the whispering he could hear was not coming in through his ears but inside his head.

He couldn't put into words what the whispering said to him. He tried to describe it to me saying they were more like feelings and pictures in his head, kind of flashes of scenes. Then suddenly the flashes had become painful, searing pain across behind his eyes and the pictures had changed….. he faltered, tears filled his eyes…..he said that he felt the Sylphs had been expelled and something had taken over while he was open and vulnerable. His body crumpled inward as he told me he had seen people dying, over and over, different people, different places, horrific, harrowing and he couldn't stop it and it hurt so. It just kept building and building filling his head, filling him, there was nothing but the pain, the images, terrifying, petrifying, terrorising him. He was shaking, crying as the memories returned pouring into him, more upset and scared than I had ever seen him.

I stopped him, said he didn't have to tell me anymore. I was frightened, ghosts, Demons, werewolves even fairies I can handle but this was something different, something that had affected him so much, something that I had no control over, something that had hurt him profoundly within his spirit and I had so nearly been unable stop it. I am sure that if I hadn't pulled him from that circle that he would have been consumed, taken over, become different to the Sammy I knew, because when I had touched him, grabbed his wrist I had felt it, felt the darkness, the shadow that had threatened him and it had terrified me to my soul.

I sat with Sam on the bed, just sitting next to him till he quietened, wiping his face with his sleeve, sniffing and then he said thanks. There was still one thing I didn't understand so I asked him. "How did you know to rub your eyes with the dew?"

He looked at me and stated matter of factly that the Syphs told him to bathe his eyes in morning elixir. There's not much you can say to that really so I just said. "Just glad the faeries came through." He looked up at me, tearstained and smiled replying with a shaky "Yeah."

I fixed him then with my stare I had to get one thing straight.

"Sammy you _EVER _tell Dad that we went after faeries then I will kick your sorry ass till my foot hits your teeth. Got it."

Sammy nodded "Got it," and gave me a dimpled grin.

We sat in silence for a while and then I had to ask him. "Sammy?"  
"Yeah."

"What was the dog food for?" He laughed.


	5. Dean's Diary Extract 5

Extract from the Diary of Dean Winchester's Diary

Extract 5

**Tuesday**

Dad's been on a bender for three days. I don't know what set him off but he polled in Friday night totally shot. I asked him if he was okay but he just grunted and pulled out a bottle of jack. He didn't even get a glass upending the bottle and taking a long, long pull. He reeked and there was dried blood splattered all over his clothes. I tried to see if he was injured but he pushed me away and I ended up on my backside so I left him to it.

He does this. Comes back after some particularly hard hunt and obliterates it with booze. Usually he's fine the next morning but occasionally, like now, it goes on for days. In some way I don't blame him. Some of the things I've seen make me want to down enough alcohol to forget too and I do kick back with a few beers. I tried whiskey once but I was stupid and Dad noticed. Let's just say I won't be sneaking any of his booze in the near future. …. I'll get my own.

He was sprawled on the couch when I got up Saturday, head back and snoring. He'd managed to strip off down to his boxers before he passed out but he still hadn't made it as far as the shower. I got Sam up and out to soccer practice relieved that he would be out of the apartment. Dad can get pretty nasty when he's drunk. I can take it but I don't like it when he turns on Sammy. Sam takes it all to heart and starts yelling back then the whole thing escalates into a shouting match.

I parked up the car after dropping Sam off and noticed that Dad's duffle was dumped on the back seat. I was surprised 'cause Dad is always so particular that we put the bags in the trunk. It's a bit hard to explain away a holdall full of guns to a passing cop who just happens to look in through the window. It's funny but however bad Dad's been before he's never forgotten stuff like that, you know, the rules of hunting 101.

The salt canister was empty, there were only two iron rounds and half a box of ordinary shells left but they would have been useless cause the sawed off was a twisted broken wreck. His glock was fine except that all the clips were empty. I held it in my hand thumbing its sleek metal while I watched Dad sleep. What the hell had he been hunting?

Geese Dad was heavy, a dead weight but I managed to drag him into the bedroom, onto the bed and washed the worst of the crud off before Sammy got back. I told Sam that Dad was ill but I don't think he believed me. I also cleaned and stashed the guns. I wasn't sure if Dad could salvage anything from the sawed off but I daren't throw it and anyway where do you get rid of a hunk of useless gun.

That was two days ago.

Since then Dad has only got up to take a piss and get another bottle. He grunted at me and waved an empty jack bottle in my face. I figured he wanted me to go to the liquor store but I said no and got smacked in the mouth for insubordination. It didn't stop him drinking either 'cause he managed to find a half bottle in his clothes duffle. I asked what was going on but he just screwed off the cap and took slug. I've never known him be this bad before. Usually I can't shut him up, about mom, about guns, about hunting but all he can do is grunt. I hate it. At least if he'd tell me what's wrong I could do something. I don't know what but something.

**Thursday**

I got back late from taking Sammy to school. I should have been at school too but I didn't want to explain the bruise on my cheek from where Dad hit me so I called in sick the last couple of days, told 'em I had a bug. On the way back I called at the store and got in some essentials. I'd taken the money from Dad's wallet. I knew he'd be pissed but Sam just about eats everything in sight and we need the food.

I let myself in and God... The apartment was wrecked. Everything upended, the chair smashed and the cushions ripped. My first thought was that something had got to Dad. I dropped the bag, stuff rolling all over the floor and I was shouting, "DAD, DAD… ," as I raced into the bedroom.

He was there looking like he'd gone ten rounds with a wendigo. He was all scratched up, the clothes I'd put on him ripped and hanging off. In his hand he was clutching a machete. That stopped me in my tracks. I held up my hands cause from where I was standing I don't think he recognised me. He was like an animal caught in the light, still wary and hesitating about whether to run or attack.

I walked towards him, "Dad?" His eyes followed my movements but still they showed no recognition. I could feel my breath getting shallower, "Dad? It's me… Dean," I still got nothing. I tried again all the time moving slowly towards the duffle where the guns were. I'm not sure if I would have shot Dad but I knew I would feel better holding a gun.

I never made it.

I was just bending my knees and reaching down for the handle when he rushed me, crashed into me full force and pushed me up against the wall forearm across my throat.

It scared the crap out of me. Dad was tough with us but never violent, "Dad," I croaked cause I couldn't get a proper breath in to make the sound out. I struggled smelling the whiskey on his breath but he just pressed tighter and everything got muzzy and heavy.

He must have eased up slightly 'cause suddenly air was rushing in. I gulped it gratefully but was really aware that Dad was right up in my face and that he was growling.

Those next few minutes were some of the worst in my life and I've had a few of those.

I felt his weight shift but before I could do anything he'd grabbed my shirt, twisted it in his fist and I was flying across the room. I hit the dresser its corner stabbing into the flesh just above my kidney. I fell to the floor; the pain was excruciating radiating out up my back and down my leg. I could hardly breathe it hurt so much. He was on me before I could roll away, straddling my hips, pinning me down, bringing the machete's blade to rest on my throat. His eyes were wild, cold and the look on his face made me shudder. I'd never seen him look like that even when he was killing something.

"Dad."

It wasn't much more than a whisper and I swallowed feeling the sharp edge of the knife dig in as I did so. I remember thinking that this was it. If I struggled he was gonna kill me and equally if I stayed still and went limp he was gonna kill me.

I was screwed my Dad was gonna kill me… literally.

Time seemed to stand still as he sat there looming over me pressing the blade harder. I felt my skin split and I think that's what made me move. Arching my hips off the floor I pushed up dislodging Dad from my lower body making him fall forward onto me, not a great idea except that I managed to grab the arm with the machete and roll. I kept rolling pulling Dad with me until I was free of his weight and then I let go scrabbling backwards away towards the door.

He came after me grabbing at my legs but I kicked out again and again. I made contact, my boot hit something unyielding. There was a sickening crunch and then everything went quiet. I lay still; breathing heavily all the time expecting Dad to come at me again but he didn't he just lay there. I was afraid to look, afraid that…

God that moment before …before I saw was ... I couldn't catch my breath, my muscles felt like lead, blood was running down my neck and all I could think of was that he was dead.

Dad was still breathing. He looked awful, kind of grey and there was a curved gash right above his temple. If it had been a crime scene the CSI guys would have matched the cut to the heel of my boot. I fell back in relief staring at the brown stained ceiling and I think I would have lain there forever if Dad hadn't moaned.

When Sam got home the apartment looked more or less back to normal minus a lamp and a chair. I don't think he noticed just dumped his bag down as usual and grabbed a drink out of the fridge. He was still swigging the milk straight from the carton when he came round the island. He stopped and looked at me asking a silent, "What?" I just stood there staring at him. Then he asked me out loud if Dad was better.

What could I say? 'Dad went berserk and tried to kill me.' I was freaked enough for both of us.

Sam took it really well considering…. considering I had Dad tied to the bed and he was growling and snarling at us.

**Friday**

I don't know what to do. I don't know what's wrong with Dad. I should call Pastor Jim or Caleb or Uncle Bobby but what if there's nothing they can do. I couldn't take it if….

I can't let on how scared I feel though 'cause I don't want to freak Sammy out. He looks like he's trying not to cry as it is and I know he's a strong kid but how can you get your head round something like this. Dad has always seemed kind of invincible. I mean I know he's not but all the same he's always managed to come through before. I've got to make him better, I've just got to.

Sammy and I sat up all night listening to Dad growling and trying to tear free from the bindings. I had to go in there several times to make sure that he hadn't broken free. It was terrible like he was like an animal, a mindless creature but it was Dad in there, Dad looking at me like he wanted to rip me apart.

I wouldn't let Sam in but even so he was a mess; sitting, staring, waiting for me to come out of the bedroom. He looked so devastated, dark smudges under his eyes and he kept biting his lip. I told him it would be okay. I don't think he believed me. I didn't believe me.

Even though I didn't feel much like eating I was about to suggest that I made us a sandwich when Sam suddenly got up and rushed into the bedroom. By the time I got to the door after him he'd started pulling out drawers and dumping stuff out all over the place muttering "Where is it?"

He was wrecking the place just like Dad did. Talk about me freaking him for one minute he freaked me out. I really began to think that I was gonna have to tie him up as well… Then I realised what he was looking for… Dad's Journal.

We found it in the trunk of the Impala. Sam pulled it out from under the mud covered spade with a shout of triumph. It was splattered with something disgusting but I grabbed it and flipped the fastener. Several bits of paper and news clippings felI out and I took those while Sam read the journal pages. It was a relief to be doing something positive.

It seemed that Dad was investigating the disappearance of several men in Alliance, Nebraska. Except that they weren't disappearances 'cause the men came back.

The newspaper articles showed that each man hadn't been technically missing because they'd not been gone the requisite forty-eight hours to make them an official missing person but the men had been missing, not in communication with their families, for over twenty-four hours. The trouble was that when the men came back they were different. One woman told a reporter that her husband was acting like a zombie. The newspaper had made a joke of it but Dad had made connections to other similar cases in other towns.

Each piece of paper listed a man's name the date and time of his reappearance and the bizarre behaviour exhibited until his death.

HIS DEATH!

That pulled me up short. I felt sick…. My hands started shaking.

Sammy noticed and before I could stop him he'd grab the papers off me and read. I could see him swallowing and then he asked me if Dad was gonna die? He was looking up at me like I had answers, _the_ answer. He'd asked me again before I could pull myself together. I told him no.

No, because Dad has something those men didn't …..us.

**Saturday**

Dad's worse. He's yelling and whining and still trying to get free, twisting his body round and pulling and pulling at the ropes. I had to wrap towels around his wrists 'cause he'd rubbed the skin raw and all the while he was snapping at me, bucking his body to try and get at me and I'm panicking inside. What if he gets loose, what if he bites us, what if….what if we can't get him back.

I can't think like that. I can't.

We spent most of the day going over Dad's notes. Sammy found a reference to something called a Kuru Pira in a recent entry; which Dad seemed to think was the same as a Buraro, not that this helped any. There was a description. 'Tall and humanoid with red eyes and long ears,' it apparently also had 'a hairy chest and huge genitals.' Sam looked at me waiting. I suppose he was waiting for me to snigger but I've never felt less like sniggering.

I suppose I was hoping for a cure, something concrete that we could do to help Dad but it was just a description it didn't tell us squat, not what it had done to Dad or how we can make him better. Hell we didn't even know if it was the thing that had attacked Dad.

I called Uncle Bobby.

Pastor Jim, was closer but Uncle Bobby knows more about stuff.

**Sunday**

Sam fell asleep over the big book that Uncle Bobby brought with him. It didn't have much printed in it about each creature but Bobby had written notes in the margins as he got more info. Next to Kuru Pira he'd written that they drilled holes in their victim's skull and sucked out their life force. It would then possess the hollow shell.

Is that what happened to Dad? Is Dad possessed?

I carefully extracted the book and covered Sam up with a blanket from our bed. If I'd moved him I'd have only woken him up and he was dead beat. I also didn't want him awake 'cause I wanted to talk to Uncle Bobby on my own.

My first question was one that had been worrying at me ever since I read Dad's notes.

"Is Dad gonna die?"

Bobby give him his due never said yes but then he never said no either.

**Monday**

God I'm all banged up, lump the size of a tennis ball on my head but I don't look as bad as Uncle Bobby. He's got bruises all across his forehead and nose, a black eye and a three inch cut on his cheek. Sammy, we nearly lost …. I don't want to even go to how close …

Dad had gone real quiet, I figured he must be sleeping and Bobby said it was probably a good time to take a look at him for marks or signs. I agreed, getting anywhere near Dad when he was awake was downright dangerous. Bobby led the way and I grabbed the salt gun. I wasn't sure if I could have used it on Dad but I felt better for having it in my hand.

Bobby stood for a moment at the side of the bed checking Dad up and down before leaning over him. He asked me to go round the other side. I guess I kinda zoned out 'cause I couldn't stop looking at Dad. He was sprawled on the bed the towels bloody where he continued to try and wrench his arms free, the sheets and pillows were spilled on the floor and the bedhead splintered and chewed where it looked like he'd had tried to gnaw his way through. Geese. Bobby had to say my name again before I moved; by then he had turned Dad's head, feeling with his fingers round behind, working from the neck upward.

"There… Feel." He said to me looking up but still bent over Dad. I worked closer to the bed and shifted the sawed off into my other hand. "Here." I ran my hand behind Dad's head, through his hair until I felt Uncle Bobby's finger. "Just there." He guided me to a scab crusting on the surface of the scalp. At that moment it felt like a hand was squeezing my heart. This thing had got close to Dad, so close that it had been able to drill a hole in his head.

A warm stickiness covered my fingers and I pulled back staring in horror at the red liquid dripping from my skin and then at Bobby who was grinning at me. I couldn't help thinking that this was bizarre. I had Dad's blood all over my hand and Bobby was smiling. A small fear crept into me. What if whatever was affecting Dad was catching. I stared back at my hand and then at Uncle Bobby. We were both infected.

"Dean, DEAN it's okay." Bobby was excited. "It doesn't go all the way through, it's not a hole…."

I don't think what he said registered but then I had other things to worry about 'cause all hell broke loose. Dad suddenly went wild, snarling he surged up from the bed smacking his head into Uncle Bobby's face. He sent Bobby staggering back blood gushing from his nose and a cut just below his eye. Before I could react and bring up the gun I got a boot in the stomach. Somehow Dad had managed to get free.

I went down my head catching the corner of the cabinet. I think I lost my vision and the pain was incredible, hot and all encompassing. I was barely aware of Sammy belting into the room. I think both Bobby and I shouted at him to get out but it was too late. Dad was up, had grabbed Sam forearm around his neck and was making for the doorway.

How he made it I don't know but Bobby was there and he slammed the door shut before Dad could get through. Dad snarled and backed away dragging Sammy with him. The kid was struggling, trying to pull Dad's arm away from his neck but Dad's strong at the best of times there was no way Sammy was going to shift it. Dad squeezed and I could see the panic and fear on Sammy's face as he fought to breathe. All I could think was that Dad was gonna kill Sam. I still had hold of the gun and I brought it up.

"John…" Bobby was trying to get Dad's attention. "Over here….JOHN." It took me a moment to realise. "We're not gonna hurt you but you gotta let Sam go." I still had the sawed off levelled at Dad but I held off pulling the trigger. I knew that the salt rounds wouldn't kill Dad but it would hurt like hell and give us time to get Sam away but then the way he was holding Sammy in front of him there was no way I could get a shot without hitting Sam as well.

It was like a dream a really bad dream with a heavy dose of the surreal 'cause all I could hear was the music from the Good the Bad and the Ugly. Ding ding ding ….ding …. You know the one from the fob watch that Lee Van Cleef holds... Ding ding ding …. I must have hit my head freaking harder than I thought.

Bobby was talking again, repeating Dad's name over and over just talking and talking. I couldn't figure out what he was trying to do. Did he think he could get through to Dad or was he giving me time to get a shot? Whatever he was trying to do I could see it was affecting Dad. He'd relaxed his hold on Sammy slightly and he was looking at Bobby as if he understood.

I caught Sammy's eye, he stared straight at me and then slowly nodded.

I fired.

The salt caught Dad in the chest the blast smacking him back against the wall. I knew I probably only had a few seconds. Leaping the bed I grabbed Sam and pulled him from Dad's hold dragging him across the carpet and out of reach.

Bobby got between us and Dad as I continued to scrabble across the floor getting Sam as far away as possible. Dad had taken most of the salt blast but some had got Sam's shoulder. He was crying and moaning and I wasn't sure how much he was hurt and how much was fear and relief.

I hugged him to me circling my arms around him holding as tight as I dared telling him that it was okay, it was okay, that I'd got him.

All my attention was on Sammy. He's a brave kid, will tackle anything on a hunt if we let him but he was shaking and sobbing as I picked him up and carried him into the living room. I think it was shock more than anything and he continued to shiver and clutch onto me as I pulled up his shirt to see the damage.

His whole shoulder was red and pitted with tiny red dots where the salt had penetrated the cloth. It didn't look too bad but I bet it stung like crazy. I wanted to get a cool washcloth to take the heat out of the skin but Sam wouldn't let go of me. In the end I just pulled him onto my lap and just held him.

**Tuesday**

We must have fallen asleep on the sofa 'cause next thing I knew there is a hand on my shoulder and a deep voice calling my name. I nearly had a heart attack when I opened my eyes 'cause Dad was standing over me smiling. I felt Sam tense in my arms as he woke too.

I must have looked like a real moron with my mouth hanging open 'cause Dad was laughing at me and he was Dad. I mean proper Dad, 'cept that he was laughing. I can't remember the last time I saw him laugh. He looked a bit ragged round the edges and deeply tired but definitely Dad and the smile …. To me the smile was reprieve, thankfulness and sheer freaking relief.

It turned out that he'd not been possessed 'cause he' Kuru Pira hadn't managed to drill right through his skull…. No Sh…!

Apparently Dad had ganked it before it got right through but Dad had been affected by the anaesthetic it had injected. It over-charged his system, increased his anxiety and resulted in a delusory state. Again no sh….. ! Dad had been able to function enough to drive back to the apartment but once there it gradually overwhelmed his system resulting in him losing it big time.

Again and once more no sh….. !

**Wednesday**

Uncle Bobby's left to go back to the yard today. He wanted to stay another couple of days to make sure we were okay but Dad said he was fine and we were fine and that Bobby had better get back to some real hunting.

I would have liked Uncle Bobby to stay for a while longer. I like it when he's around it makes me feel kinda… normal. Like we really do have family and there really is someone who will come running when we need him. Yeah he did come and yeah he will come but now he's gone and it's just back to being Me, Sammy and Dad.

Dad _is_ fine, he's slowly losing his smile and becoming 'Hunter Dad' again instead of 'Dad Dad' but having been on the receiving end of his delusion all I can say is I'll take it… and anyway for a little while he is gonna be so easy… cause Sammy and I …well let's just say we have scars and bruises on our throats that Dad is gonna feel guilty about for quite a while…


	6. Dean's Diary Extract 6

**Authors note: This is the last extract for a while. I have another one half written but RL is taking over the writing at the moment. Hopefully in a few weeks I will get more time to finish. I do have another couple of stories already written and I will be posting those soon. :)  
**

**Excerpt from Dean Winchester's Diary**

Extract 6

**Thursday**

I'm gonna kill him, I am. I don't care that he's younger than me or that Dad says I have to look after him. He's dead the next time he touches my stuff.

You know he didn't even look guilty when I asked just shrugged like it was nothing.

LIKE IT WAS NOTHING PULLING OUT SOME GIRLY PINK SHORTS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE LOCKER ROOM.

I was stood there like some retard when these frilly things with a tiny, 'My little Pony' logo embroidered onto the leg fell out of my stuff. Everyone was laughing and making kissing noises and obscene gestures at me.

What was he thinking I mean there are pranks and then there's humiliation. How could he put those things in my bag I am never, never gonna live this down. Thank god we'll be moving on in a couple of weeks 'cause I'm not going back to that school whatever Dad says.

**Thursday night….**

I suppose I should be relieved. It wasn't Sam's idea, the shorts that is. At first I thought it he'd done it and that kinda hurt 'cause although we do 'stuff' to each other we never do it in front of other people like that. Turns out it was one of his geeky friend's idea of a joke. Sam didn't know until it was too late and he was in class.

I'm still angry with him he could have made some kind of excuse to leave class and warn me or even use his new phone. That's part of what being brothers is about, he should have given me the heads up 'cause it's always been The Winchesters against everyone.

I have noticed that Sam's been spending a lot of time with his 'friends'. We don't usually make friends; we don't stay around long enough but he's been quite closed mouthed and I've not seen him at break time or lunch time for the last couple of weeks.

It's weird 'cause usually we rely on each other and Dad makes me give Sammy a lift to and from school most days if I've got the car and I'm happy to do it. Recently though Sam's done a lot of walking home. I haven't told Dad. I've tried to give Sam some space 'cause he's getting older and I know he can take care of himself but it doesn't feel right.

I tried talking to him but he gave me those puppy eyes and spoke perfect sense. He was thirteen and probably able to look after himself better than most boys his age. That it was about time that Dad and I trusted him and that I was jealous that he had friends other than me.

I couldn't fault him. His logic was impeccable and he was right. Sometimes I think Sammy is too clever for his own good.

Later he said he was sorry but it didn't stop him smearing mud in my bed.

I put jelly in his.

**Saturday**

Dad got really mad.

He found out that I hadn't gone to school Friday and then he found the dirty sheets where we'd stashed them. He yelled at us and told us we could wash them ourselves 'cause he wasn't forgoing the deposit. Then as well as washing the sheets he's put us both on laundry duty for the next month with extra training on top.

He said that if we'd got time to fool around then we obviously hadn't got enough to do so in addition I've gotta clean all the guns and Sammy has to sharpen the knives until further notice.

Sam is really pissed he hates anything to do with the weapons even though he is pretty good with a gun and even better with a knife. He glared at me all evening over the table; like it was my fault!

**Sunday**

Dad's gone off on a hunt. He was already up and packing when I got up this morning seems he got news of a black dog on the loose in Louisiana. I wanted to go with him but he said no and looked at me pointedly. I got the message. He's still pissed at me and Sammy.

**Sunday later…**

Sam's still acting all emo. Geeze he can out sulk a three year old.

Dad had gone by the time he surfaced so it was up to me to make him do the three mile run and the weight training. He never spoke to me all through and then announced at the end he was off out.

I asked where and got "Out." We never say just 'out'.

I tried to reason with him 'cause I know …well I know we can't keep him locked up for the rest of his life but he's got to realise there's got to be rules. He knows what's out there. It's for his own protection.

I didn't realise it until later but I sounded just like Dad. No wonder he went off like a firecracker yelling and swearing until he was nearly crying. Then he shut himself in our room.

It didn't feel good. I hate it when we argue but this was worse I felt like the biggest dick ever. It was always me and Sammy against the world but I couldn't let him go off without knowing where he was.

**Thursday**

Geeze I'm so banged up, _again_, that I can hardly write. Everything hurts and the things that don't hurt ache and the things that don't ache….you get the picture ….. AND it's all Sam's fault.

It isn't really, not entirely, it wasn't like he knew what was going on 'til later so I don't blame him but he feels real guilty right about now and I'm gonna milk for as long as I can to teach him a lesson.

He snuck out. Sunday afternoon, the stupid sonofabitch snuck out; went out of the window.

I called to him asking if he wanted anything to eat. There was no answer so I go in to see if he's asleep and he's gone, backpack and notebooks gone too. I tell you I was panicking until I found his clothes were still there.

I mean what the hell… If Dad comes back… Did Sam even think about that?

Checking under the window outside I found some sneaker footprints which had to be his but they led to the blacktop and I had no chance of finding which way he'd gone from there. I must have stood for a good few minutes gazing up and down the parking lot willing him to reappear but nadda.

I tried Sam's number….a lot…more than a lot, probably about a hundred times. Then I was gonna call his friends until I realised that I didn't know their numbers, or their last names or their addresses. You can't call the operator and ask for 'Dogger' or 'Shinty'.

The only thing I could do was go look for him. I left a note on the table in case he came home telling him to call me as soon as he got back. Then, 'cause of course Dad had the Impala, I bagged a car. Not from right outside the motel. I walked a couple of blocks and found a decent enough Ford. Not too showy but not one that was gonna break down in ten yards.

I drove to the school first. I did wonder if Sam'd got soccer practice or something. There were a few kids on the field but no one I knew and none were part of Sammy's geek squad. I described Sam and asked them if they'd seen him or knew any of his friends. I got diddlysquat. I was just about to go when the Coach came over. He knew me as Sam's brother 'cause I'd picked Sam up from practice more often than not. He gave me a name. Apparently 'Shinty' is Alphonso Buckley. Of course he is. Who the heck names their child Alohonso?

It didn't take me long to find the Buckley household. A woman, the kid's mom I supposed, answered the door. She was very vague and didn't seem to know where 'Alphonso' was or who he was with or even where he was likely to be - Some people. I explained to her that I thought he was with my kid brother and that I needed to find them 'cause Sam had an appointment but she just shrugged and shut the door in my face.

BEEP_ - 'I'm ok stp tryng to fd me.'_

I stared at my phone's screen. How did he know? Could he see me? I looked up checking the street gazing at the blank looking houses willing myself to see his face. I dropped the phone twice and my fingers hit the wrong buttons.

'_Sm? Where r u?'_

I got nothing back so I called. He didn't pick up. Okay I thought so that's the way it's gonna be and texted him.

'_Sm answr gdamned phne'_

The seconds seemed to last forever.

BEEP_ - 'Go bck to mtel. M hlpng friends.'_

Helping friends! He and his little gang are doing freakin' homework club while I'm going out of my mind.

'_Home NOW!'_

I was expecting something a brush off or an excuse. What I wasn't expecting was…

BEEP -_ 'Go to Hell'_

That floored me I went hot and cold and I could hardly breathe. My brain must have stopped functioning for several minutes. I just kept reading the screen again and again.

'_Go to Hell'_

'_Go to Hell'_

I sat in the car reeling from the shock. I went to type '_Sam_…' but then couldn't think of anything to say. Sam had never said anything like that to me before it was like he'd punched me. We had our arguments but usually we got on, after all really we only had each other and Dad.

What had made him so mad? Why was he acting so out of character? I racked my brains, going over and over anything and everything that Sam had said to me over the last few days to try and explain it but there was nothing. The only thing that would have given me a clue, his notebooks and he'd taken them with him. Mind you when I thought about it he had been writing in them more than usual. He only wrote like that when he was researching a hunt.

Then it hit me. The Bleaker House, he was at the Goddamned Bleaker House.

I remember him asking about the place. He said he was doing a project of some kind on Urban Legends. Apparently the house had been empty as long as anyone could remember and was supposed to be haunted. I gave him a 'Dad' lecture him telling him there was a difference between real Urban Legends and the stuff kids made up about spooky houses and that he should know that. I suppose I was a little harsh but Sam knew the score. He'd been on real hunts with me a dad. He said he didn't care and he was going to research it anyway. ….Come to think that's when all this started, when he began hanging around with the geeksquad.

I must have broken every speed limit and it still took me half an hour. I'd barely put the car in park before I was out and shouting his name. The house was old, possibly turn of the century. Whatever, it had seen better days. The shutters were hanging off, paint was cracking off the boards and most of the windows had been smashed.

I shouted his name again and put my weight against the front door shoving it back into the dark hallway. The place was a mess, dust and leaves flew up as I searched. Great clouds of it and I was coughing my guts up within minutes. It got everywhere in my throat, in my nose and my eyes. I couldn't see and I couldn't draw in enough breath to keep shouting.

Something brushed past me and if I hadn't instinctively jerked back it would have got me on that first pass. Instead I staggered back falling onto the stairs. I say onto more like into. They collapsed under me the wood shrieking and splintering the sharp shards punching their way under my skin.

I landed on my butt flailing around like some helpless dork. The dust rose thicker and my lungs were screaming for oxygen, wheezing, struggling to pull in even the tiniest molecule of clean air. Everything was telescoping away when the smell hit me. It was gross, foul and fetid it caught in my throat and again I was hacking, choking with tears running down my face. Some instinct made me raise my arms. If I hadn't I'd have been a gonna.

The pain was incredible and I've had some experience in the pain department. I think the first blow must have jarred some nerve receptors or something and the pain ricochet right up my arm and through my body. Another blow came and another and another. Some kind of self-preservation must have kicked 'cause I lashed out with my foot connected with something solid and shoved. I was dimly aware of a thump and a crack and then I was falling again until the ground smacked into me hard knocking what little breath I had from my body.

This time I knew I'd broken something 'cause I heard the crack but the racking pain in my chest was overtaken by the white hot searing agony in my thigh.

I came too coughing and retching and that set off a whole new round of torment in my chest and leg. Waves of pain just kept coming and coming every time I took a breath or even tried shifting. I could feel the uneven surface of the floor digging into my back and side but however awkwardly I lay moving was not an option not if I wanted to remain conscious anyway.

Eventually I opened my eyes and lost it big time, hyperventilating, tears – the lot. I couldn't see; just blinking hurt like crazy like I had sharp grit scratching my eyeballs. The tears must have helped because the stinging sensation lessened and I was able to at least raise my eyelids without too much pain but I couldn't see everything was black. Then I realised after a while that I could make out dim shapes in the darkness. I couldn't see, not 'cause I couldn't see but 'cause it was dark.

My relief was short-lived.

Above the boards thumped, dust and dirt sifted down onto my skin. I could hear the particles pittering around me as I lay hyper-alert. Whatever it was that had attacked me was still up there. The boards shifted again and the thumping evolved into shuffling footsteps.

Geeze I remember thinking like I was in the middle of the 'Night of the living Dead'.

Fumbling around in my pocket I found two things. The first, my phone, I could feel that it was smashed even before tried the buttons. Dad is gonna be so pissed. We had a full thirty minutes on how he'd got us the latest mobiles and they were for emergencies only; not for call our friends; like as if we had any. He'd told us no end of time how much the things had cost him and that we had to be careful with them; my life isn't gonna be worth living when he finds out. The second item was my lighter. I flicked it a few times until the flame steadied, despite my shaking hands, enabling me to look around. I was in a cellar. It was empty except for a couple of half empty sacks next to me and few boxes in the far corner under the open tread wooden staircase leading up to the cellar door. There was no other entrance, no steps, no double storm door and no windows; hence the darkness.

Directly above me the hole that my body must have made when I fell through the rotten boards was plugged with debris from the collapsed stairs. I was partly grateful for that because at least whatever it was up there couldn't get down that way.

I let the small flame go out listening to the shuffling from above. I had to conserve the fuel however much I wanted light but immediately I relit it. There had to be a light switch 'cause even though I hadn't consciously registered it the image of a light bulb hanging from the ceiling was searing itself into my brain.

I don't know how long it took me to get across the floor to the switch. I must have passed out a couple of times but I made it, bit my lip against the pain, reached up and rocked down the lever. The thin light barely made the corners of the room but I can tell you any light, is a ton better than no light at all. That was when I got a look, a real look at my leg.

First thing, I was bleeding; second thing I was bleeding because there was nine inch spike right through the thigh muscle. Fuck. Three inches higher, a little to the right and it would have hit the artery. I sat there staring at the pointed end sticking up through the rip in my jeans. The blood on the tip had dried but that didn't stop the ooze of fresh scarlet or the tearing pain when I tried to move.

The Bang was loud and almost above my head. More dust and bits of plaster reigned down, rattling and bouncing on the wooden treads of the stairs. Crap the thing above had found the cellar door.

At the next bang I could see the door visibly bowing inward; it wasn't going to last long. I cast around for a weapon, a tool, a stick something to defend myself with. I didn't know what was going to come down the stairs but hell it obviously didn't want to read me a bedtime story.

The only thing I could see was a broken garden fork. It didn't occur to me until later was that it was broken because I had fallen on it and had the missing spike sticking out of my leg.

The pain was so bad that I nearly threw up as I manoeuvred myself back across the floor. Each drag across the ground threatened to send me spiralling down into the black but every thud from above spurred me on until I had the shaft of the fork in my hand and my back wedged between the sacks and the wall. A further thud followed by a crash told me all I needed to know. I remember being so tense, my knuckles white, heart thumping as the thing descended the stairs.

I don't know what I was expecting but despite my thoughts earlier it wasn't Zombie Wars; God I would have given anything for a Photon Cannon at that moment. The thing was human-ish, two legs, two arms, a head but it looked like it had been in the ground forever; very little hair, flesh hanging off in bloody hunks so you could see bone and dead, dead eyes.

Crap, suddenly I knew what it was; a Revenant. I'd only read about them, Dad had tackled one years ago he told us but it was weird 'cause Revenants are usually reanimated by someone, directed against an enemy for revenge and stuff. Who the hell had directed this against me? It suddenly struck me that Sam would know how….but I couldn't …no he wouldn't, not even if he was mad at me. I dismissed the thought as soon as I'd had it.

All this was going on in my mind as it dragged itself down the stairs and across the floor. Then I managed to pull myself together and began desperately racking my brain trying to remember how to kill the damned thing.

I watched it getting nearer and near the smell almost unbearable and I was scared. It's one thing going after a 'monster' if you're prepared it's quite another have one coming at you and all you've got is a broken garden implement. I remember thinking I'm gonna die.

A Revenant is a ghost of sorts and it wasn't going to stop even if I could've stuck the fork in it. Really the only thing I could think of that would work would be a salt and burn. Like that was gonna happen.

I tried to stand. I felt in some strange panicked logic that if I could stand and face it things would be better. Of course all I got was pain, nausea and the room swooping in and out. I put my hand on the sacks beside me to steady myself and gripped. The stuff in the bag was loose and my fingers dug in. I grabbed a handful and in a desperate act flung the substance at the revenant.

It was salt, the stuff in the sack was rock salt. I grabbed more, lobbing it at the figure even as it let out a rending scream. I couldn't work fast enough, handful after handful I spread over the floor, making a ring around myself first and then filling in before covering myself. I wasn't taking any chances.

The sonofabitch recovered quickly and came back shuffling faster than before. I pressed back into the wall here was nothing else I could do. If the salt line didn't work I was dead. My blood was rushing in my ears and the damp wall stuck the shirt to my back. It was agony watching the thing advance, waiting and waiting my eyes fixed on its feet as it shuffled nearer and nearer.

The line held, the revenant couldn't cross but instead it scraped, scuffed and limped the perimeter; back and forth, back and forth all the time staring at me. I gripped the shaft of the fork harder I couldn't relax, no one knew where I was and I had no way of communicating with the outside world. I was alone in a basement with a revenant.

I sat for hours but it never faltered and never took its eyes off me; a deadly stalemate. I remember thinking that if the Revenant didn't get me I'd bleed out before help came. Several times everything around me receded and my vision blurred. I remember forcing myself back by shifting my injured leg the pain spiking sharply giving me something to focus on but as time went on I found it harder and harder to keep my eyes open.

xxxxx

This next part is a little difficult to write 'cause it's all mixed up in my head. All I've got is bits and pieces and weird vibes.

To start with it felt like I was floating. I couldn't _feel_ anything, physically. It wasn't like I was numb it was more like… just aware of being without the hassle of a body. See what I mean about weird vibes.

Gradually though the outside started to impinge; I could feel my body, my arms, my legs, my head. The trouble was that my body got heavier and heavier as sensation return and with the weight came the pain; a deep pain, a tense pain that wrapped itself so tightly around me so I couldn't feel anything else.

Someone was saying my name. I could hear them. "Dean, Dean, Please Dean." It sounded familiar but there were other voices mixed in that I didn't know. They came and went. I couldn't keep track and it hurt to try but that one voice, the one calling my name was always there.

In the end it was something new that forced me to open my eyes. There was a pressure on my hand. I remember puzzling over it trying to get my brain to analyse the sensation until 'Yatzee' I worked it out… someone was holding my hand and holding tight.

As soon as I cracked my eyelids open and saw the mop of brown hair I knew it was Sammy.

XXX

I don't remember much before the hospital; the medics, the ambulance, ER nothing.

Sam had found me at the house and called 911 he told me he'd been so scared. He thought I was dead there was blood everywhere and I wasn't moving but then I'd groaned.

It didn't occur to me at first that he hadn't mentioned the Revenant but when it did and I asked him he began looked guilty.

Sam said he'd been really pissed at me about the going out thing. No really? I'd never have guessed! He told me that he'd promised his geek friends they'd go look at the Bleaker House, take photos; apparently it was part of a project for school that he and Shinty/Alphonso and the others were working on. He'd called Al and told him I was being a dick and not letting him out.

Then Sammy looked really guilty, again, then started apologising, saying he didn't know that Alphonso would do that, that it was all his fault and he shouldn't have bitched about me to him. It was at that point that I made Sam back up. He'd been bitching about me? Sam looked even more guilty if that was possible.

The first hint that Alphonso had done something to me was when, having taken their photos and the others had taken off, they were sat having a soda and Sam had said he had to get back 'cause I'd be worried. The kid had let slip that I wouldn't be a problem that I'd more than enough trouble to keep me off Sam's back.

Sam said that he'd got a real creepy feeling looking at Alphonso's face. Something bad was going on. Al seemed to have changed from being 'Shinty' a thirteen year old boy to something else, something far older and malignant.

I didn't get any more out of Sam then 'cause he broke down and started to cry, asking me to forgive him that he hadn't known and he would never… he clutched at my arm and looked more miserable than I'd ever seen him.

It took me a while to convince Sammy that I was on the mend and that it was okay now and he was still my brother. He looked so grateful that I nearly laughed at him but I stopped myself whatever he had done I could see he was truly sorry.

I didn't get the rest of Sam's story until I'd got myself checked out of the hospital. Sam had done the right thing in calling the paramedics there was no way he could have dealt with the spike in my leg but that didn't mean I wanted to spend the next few days in lock-down as an inmate. The Docs tried to persuade me that it was in my best interest to stay put but they hadn't met Dad. I needed to be home by the time he came back. He was gonna be pissed because there was no way I could hide my injury from him and I'd already decided that I was gonna take the flack and not mention that Sammy had anything to do with it. Better Dad thought I'd been a clumsy dick than let him loose on Sam.

Sam fussed around me until I told him to back off. I'd opted for the bed to rest up on 'cause the sofa wasn't long enough to stretch my leg full length but he seemed to think that meant I was ill. True my leg hurt like crazy and I was pretty high on the pain meds but his constant hovering just made me want to shout at him. I didn't but I came close.

Once I was settled back on all the pillows in the place and with Sam sat next to me I had to ask him. How had he got rid of the Revenant? He said he hadn't but then I couldn't figure why I was still around to…. Sam jumped in to explain that there had never been a Revenant that it was all in my head. I just stared at him then and pointed out more than a little sarcastically that he'd not been there and that I'd got a very real spike in my leg because of that Revenant.

He shook his head saying he'd figured out what Al was. I raised my eyebrows in a silent Oh? Apparently the kid/creature kept on boasting to Sam how he'd conjured up something to keep me off Sammy's back and that with any luck it'd be a permanent arrangement. Sam told me that he'd been horrified, panicking inside but that he'd played along fishing for more information.

I knew that Sam was a clever kid, a lot cleverer than me but what he did, sitting chatting with a monster as if nothing was wrong took a lot of nerve. The more Al talked the more Sam had become convinced that it was a kind of Djinn possibly a Shaitan (How did he even know that) One that was not immediately dangerous to humans. In fact it was probably trying to be nice to Sam, give him his wish only according to the Djinn Sam's wish was to be rid of me.

I was kind of hurt about that but Sam said I was being stupid. Thanks Sammy! He didn't deny that he'd thought it though. His guilty face came back in full force followed by one of remorse and panic as he assured me that he'd only thought it in a fleeting moment when he was angry at me for not letting him out.

The thing had taken it upon itself to 'help' Sammy and had lured me to the Bleaker House. It was then it dawned on me that Sam hadn't sent those texts that, just like the Revenant, the Djinn had made me see them; relying on the fact that being an overprotective carer I wouldn't let it lie.

To me that still didn't explain how Sam found me and why I wasn't lying dead having bled out in the basement of that house. Sam smirked and I nearly cuffed him one for being so smug as he announced that he'd thrown his cup of water at it and it had screamed in agony and left Alphonso's body. I must have looked incredulous 'cause his smile widened to a full dimple. Apparently this type of Djinn did possession and had an aversion to water. What the hell would he have done if it hadn't been this 'particular' type? Sam just shrugged as if that had never occurred to him.

**Wednesday**

Dad got back yesterday.

I was up and about. Sam stole some crutches for me. I didn't ask from where but they at least allowed me to, go to the bathroom without his help.

Predictably Dad blew up. He spent at least an hour yelling at me, calming down to a loud voice for another hour, before descending into the disappointed silence which always gets to me more than the shouting.

I never let on about Sam and that earned me a smuggled bottle of beer and a big hug from my still feeling a ton of guilt brother.

I don't blame Sam. I can't count the number of times I've wished Dad gone and I'll probably wish it again before my leg is better. I never meant it then or now and that's how I know that Sammy never meant it but that doesn't stop me guilting him into doing my chores.


End file.
